GIFT  OF 
Elisabeth  Whitney  Putna 


7 


BALLANTYNE 


TK*~^  /r^vv 


BALLANTTNE 


A     NOVEL 
By  HELEN    CAMPBELL 

Author  of  "  Prisoners    of   Poverty,"    "Mrs.    Herndon's 

Income,"  "  Women  Wage-  Earners,"   "Under 

Green  Apple  Boughs,"   etc. 


BOSTON  •  LITTLE,     BROWN 
AND    COMPANY  •  MDCCCCI 


COPYRIGHT,  1901,  BY  LITTLE, 
BROWN,    AND     COMPANY 


UNIVERSITY    PRESS     •    JOHN    WILSON 
AND     SON      •      CAMBRIDGE,    U.S.A. 


To  Paulina 

Critic,   Helper,   and  friend 
Well  Beloved 

THIS  BOOK 


412435 


B ALLANTYN  E 


Book  I 

Chapter   First 


OF  the  ninety-three  Americans  who  made 
the  late   March    passage  from    Boston 
to  Liverpool,  in  a  year  still  recent,  not 
one  stepped  upon  English  soil  with  so 
strong  a  sense  of  familiar  proprietorship  as  Marion 
Lacy,  Boston  born,  Boston  bred,  and  with  distinct 
and  lifelong  appreciation  of  her  birthright  and  what 
it  involved.     Nantucket,  it  is  true,  claimed  the  father 
and    Plymouth  the  mother;   but   Boston  has  always 
admitted    that    these  two   names    stand   for    perhaps 
as  valuable  and  coherent  a  background  as  her  own, 
and   yields   deference    accordingly,  the  three  as  one 
in  inheritance  and  tradition. 

To  Marion  it  had  meant  always  rather  an  embar 
rassment  of  riches,  for  the  two  old  houses  opened 
their  doors  every  summer,  each  so  full  of  attractions 
that  choice  seemed  impossible.  What  could  be 
more  fascinating  to  a  child,  or  for  that  matter  to 
anybody,  than  the  quaint  houses  of  the  old  island, 
filled  with  strange  spoils  from  many  lands,  presided 
over  by  gray-headed,  almost  barnacled,  sea  captains, 
who  still  went  up  daily  to  the  "  walks  "  built  about 

i 


2/'\:  )••:.••:•  BALL  ANT  YNE 

the  cluster  of  chimneys  on  each  roof  of  the  roomy 
old  dwellings,  and  swept  the  horizon  for  ships  that 
long  ago  had  made  for  other  harbors  ? 

Often  Marion  followed,  lost  in  dreams  of  the 
dead  and  gone  ancestors,  matron  and  maid,  who 
from  the  same  "  walks  "  had  read  every  sign  of  wind 
and  wave,  and  waited,  as  sailors'  wives  and  sweet 
hearts  must,  for  many  a  ship  that  never  came  home. 
There  they  were  now,  all  of  them,  in  the  little  grave 
yard  on  the  windy  hill,  where  the  curls  so  blew  into 
her  eyes  that  it  was  hard  to  spell  out  the  names  on 
the  crumbling  headstones,  —  chief  among  them  that 
of  old  Peter  Folger,  surveyor,  architect,  school-master, 
lay-preacher,  and  poet,  this  last  in  such  fashion  only 
as  Puritan  limitations  admitted. 

In  the  bookcase  in  her  grandfather's  room,  owned 
by  his  father  before  him,  Marion  had  found  the  little 
volume,  once  famous,  —  the  burst  of  manly,  valiant, 
ungrammatical  doggerel,  "  A  Looking-Glass  for  the 
Times,"  in  which  the  "  plain  speaker  "  sent  out  from 
the  remote  and  mist-encircled  island  a  voice  whose 
plea  for  spiritual  freedom  still  sounds  clear  and  strong 
as  many  a  voice  that  has  followed.  Standing  in  the 
big  wooden  chair  to  bring  herself  on  a  level  with  the 
shelf  which  held  this  and  other  treasures  of  the  same 
order,  the  small  Marion,  with  infinite  trouble  from 
the  long  s's,  spelled  out  the  verses,  which  fastened 
themselves  in  her  memory,  and  which  she  repeated 
with  the  deep  conviction  that  not  Washington  him 
self  had  quite  the  same  claim  to  distinction. 


B A  LLANTYNE 


"  I  am  for  peace  and  not  for  war, 

And  that's  the  reason  why 
I  write  more  plain  than  some  men  do, 

That  used  to  dawb  and  lie. 
But  I  shall  cease  and  set  my  name 

To  what  I  now  insert. 

*'  Because  to  be  a  libeller, 

I  hate  with  all  my  heart. 
From  Sherborn  town  where  now  I  dwell, 

My  name  I  do  put  here, 
Without  offence,  your  real  friend, 

It  is  Peter  Folger." 

Grandfather  had  explained  it  carefully,  never 
amazed  at  any  form  of  question  from  this  child, 
whose  deep  blue  eyes  held  more  questions  than 
smiles,  and  who  listened  with  grave  consideration, 
nodding  approval  at  the  end. 

"  It  means,  then,  that  people  should  be  allowed  to 
think  what  they  please  and  not  be  meddled  with," 
she  said,  when  the  story  ended  ;  and  Grandfather  Lacy, 
quite  unmindful  of  consequences,  had  said,  "  Cer 
tainly,  child,  certainly,"  and  gone  his  way  to  the 
"  Captain's  Room "  and  his  morning  pipe  with  the 
old  salts  who  met  there  daily  to  smoke  and  drink  a 
quiet  glass  and  tell  strange  tales  of  whaling  days,  as 
remote  now  as  the  Crusades  or  the  search  for  the 
Golden  Fleece. 

Up  by  the  old  windmill  Marion  thought  it  all  over, 
singing  the  quaint  words  to  a  tune  of  her  own,  and 
wondering  how  the  rhymer  looked  and  what  people 


BALLANTYNE 


said  to  him,  and  planning  for  more  questions  when 
the  time  came. 

"I  wish  Peter  Folger  were  alive  now,"  she  said 
next  morning  when  alone  with  grandfather  ;  u  because 
he  would  understand,  and  he  would  n't  be  afraid  to 
say  he  did." 

Grandfather  winced.  His  own  subjection  to  Aunt 
Priscilla  was  plain. 

"  Are  there  any  sons  ?  "  she  went  on.  "  Because 
if  there  are,  when  I  am  big  enough  I  want  to  marry 
one  of  them." 

"  Sho  !  "  said  grandfather,  hastily,  stifling  a  chuckle. 
"  That  is  n't  the  way  for  little  girls  to  talk.  Sons 
don't  take  after  their  fathers.  It 's  the  mothers  mostly 
that  seem  to  have  it  their  own  way,  and  the  men  you 
hear  about  are  not  the  sons  of  famous  fathers.  When 
your  time  comes,  my  pet,  you  '11  have  to  look  out  for 
somebody  with  a  sensible  mother.  That 's  where 
your  great  men  lose  their  bearings  and  get  on  a  sand 
bar." 

"  Then  I  must  look  for  Peter  Folger's  daughter's 
son,"  said  Marion,  after  a  pause  for  consideration. 
"  Because  it  must  be  somebody  that  will  understand, 
like  you,  grandfather,  and  that  will  not  wonder  all  the 
time  at  things  that  are  not  wondering  things  at  all. 
Does  anybody  ever  let  people  alone,  and  let  them  do 
things,  without  saying,  '  What  makes  you  do  so  ? ' 
People  always  say,  '  What  does  make  you  do  so, 
Marion  ?  '  to  me." 

"That's  different,"  said  Aunt  Priscilla,  who  had 


B A  LLANTYN  E 


entered  in  time  for  these  words,  and  who  sent  a  look 
of  reproof  toward  the  old  captain,  who  returned  it 
with  a  certain  defiance,  but  made  haste  to  escape 
silently,  long  experience  having  taught  him  not  to 
argue  with  Priscilla,  who  had  reigned  here  undisputed 
quite  forty  years.  But  Marion  waited  for  him  when 
he  came  home,  and  took  her  place  between  his  knees. 
"  The  Pilgrims  were  only  foreigners,  you  see,"  she 
went  on,  as  if  no  break  had  come.  "  And  Peter  Fol- 
ger  was  a  Pilgrim,  so  he  was  a  foreigner,  too." 

"What!"  shouted  Grandfather  Lacy,  with  the 
voice  of  a  trumpet.  Marion  started,  but  held  her 
ground. 

"  I  don't  mean  he  landed  on  the  Rock,"  she  went 
on  undaunted,  while  grandfather  ruffled  up  his  shock 
of  white  hair  and  looked  at  her  speechless.  "  Because 
he  did  n't,  you  know.  But  you  said  he  came  over  a 
while  after,  and  so  of  course  he  was  an  Englishman, 
—  and  how  could  he  turn  into  an  American  ?  I  don't 
see  why  we  're  not  all  foreigners,  because  you  can't 
stop  being  what  you  were  born,  just  because  you  go 
somewhere  else." 

"  Great  Scott !  the  child  is  arguing  like  a  lawyer  !  " 
said  grandfather  under  his  breath,  still  looking  at  her 
with  fascinated  attention. 

"Then  we're  all  English  yet,"  pursued  Marion, 
taking  the  look  for  agreement. 

"  English  ! "  roared  grandfather,  coming  to  his 
senses.  "  When  we  went  through  two  wars  and 
buried  our  best,  to  get  rid  of  English  tyranny  !  When 


B ALLAN  TYNE 


the  Pilgrims  fled  away  to  get  to  a  spot  where  there 
might  be  free  speech,  and  freedom  to  worship  God, 
• — and  England  persecuted  every  man  that  had  a 
thought  in  his  head !  What  do  you  mean,  child  ? 
Don't  you  know  that  where  you  are  born  is  your 
country, — <and  that  you  and  four  generations  before 
you  were  born  on  American  soil  ?  Don't  talk  any 
more  nonsense  about  being  English." 

"  But  we  must  be,"  persisted  Marion.  "  Why 
can't  I  say  that  I  'm  English,  that  got  born  over  here, 
but  that  England  is  home  ?  " 

Grandfather  gasped,  struck  his  cane  on  the  floor, 
rose  up  and  then  suddenly  sat  down  again,  a  strange 
look  coming  over  his  face.  For  the  moment  he 

o 

seemed  to  see  his  mother,  her  quiet  face  framed  in 
the  Quaker  cap,  and  the  same  deep  blue  eyes  that 
looked  at  him  now  under  Marion's  fair  forehead  fixed 
upon  him,  and  heard  her  say  :  "  Thee  will  come  to  it, 
my  son,  and  some  day  thee  will  know  that  mankind 
is  one  brotherhood,  and  England  or  America,  black  or 
white,  it  is  all  the  same." 

"  Go  your  way,  child,"  he  said  at  last.  u  It 's  all 
the  same  in  the  end,  I  suppose ;  only  don't  you  for 
get  that  this  is  your  country,  and  your  fathers  died 
for  it.  I  hope  that 's  not  treason,"  he  added,  as  he 
took  down  his  hat.  "  What 's  a  man  to  do  when 
he  's  between  two  fires  ?  " 

It  was  fortunate  that  Aunt  Priscilla  called  them  to 
supper,  looking  suspiciously  at  both,  since  grandfather 
was  hardly  less  a  child  than  Marion.  This  had 


B ALLANTYNE 


always  been  her  attitude.  The  oldest  of  seven,  — • 
Gardiner  Lacy,  the  father  of  Marion,  being  the 
youngest,  —  it  was  quite  natural  that  she  should 
think  of  him  in  the  same  way,  as  a  child  with  small 
capacity  for  dealing  with  the  present  mystery,  also  a 
child,  but  with  strange,  inexplicable  ways. 

There  was  no  hint  of  her  father's  childhood  in  one 
point  in  Marion,  since  she  preferred  clean  hands  to 
dirty,  and  no  matter  where  her  expeditions  led  her, 
on  land  at  least,  came  home  unsoiled  and  untorn. 
There  were  two  Marions  evidently,  one  of  whom 
rejoiced  in  a  high  wind  and  ran  recklessly  before  it, 
singing  scraps  of  all  the  poetry  she  had  ever  learned 
and  dancing  like  mad  in  secret  places,  as  the  back  of 
the  barn  or  down  in  some  hollow  of  the  sheep-walks. 
This  was  the  Marion  who  knew  every  odd  corner 
in  town,  and  had  perched  on  the  knees  of  every  old 
captain,  drinking  in  tales  limitless  in  length  and 
invention,  or  who,  privately  encouraged  by  grand 
father,  learned  at  six  to  row,  and  went  out  in  blue- 
fish  boats,  in  any  sort  of  weather,  indifferent  to  the 
wash  of  waves  or  anything  that  wind  or  storm  might 
bring.  The  other  took  silently  all  exhortations  to 
better  methods  and  such  phases  of  discipline  as 
seemed  good  to  the  much  perplexed  mind  of  Aunt 
Priscilla,  who  in  the  two  months  of  summer  labored  to 
instil  New  England  methods  with  a  zeal  bordering  on 
fatuity,  devoting  the  other  ten  to  meditation  on  how 
finally  to  accomplish  her  end. 

Marion's  affection  was  given  to  her  grandfather,  to 


8  B ALLANTYNE 

whom  she  listened  with  a  faith  that  warmed  his  soul  ; 
but  Aunt  Priscilla  she  had  never  loved,  regarding  her 
chiefly  as  an  obstacle  and  making  no  further  effort 
toward  comprehension.  In  fact,  womankind  as  a 
whole  stood  for  obstruction.  Nantucket  began  it; 
but  Nantucket  was,  after  all,  a  good  deal  under  the 
jurisdiction  of  grandfather,  who,  whatever  he  might 
feel  called  upon  to  say,  gave  practically  unconditional 
liberty. 

This  for  June  and  July ;  but  when  they  had  ended, 
August  and  September  were  still  to  come,  —  and 
August  and  September  meant  Plymouth  and  the  still 
old  house  where  no  child  had  ever  played,  and  every 
thing  had  been  in  the  same  place  at  least  a  hundred 
years. 

Here  dwelt  Grandmother  Barstow,  tall  and  dark 
and  silent,  who  had  brought  up  Marion's  mother  in 
minute  observance  of  the  New  England  decalogue, 
and  who  could  never  be  induced  to  follow  her  to 
Boston,  or  do  more  than  make  a  yearly  visit  at  the 
time  of  the  May  meetings.  Plymouth  contented  her, 
nor  could  she  see  why  desire  should  go  beyond  it  ; 
and  thus  she  returned  always  after  her  month  in 
Boston  with  a  feeling  of  deep  relief. 

At  home  the  day  divided  itself  naturally  ;  and 
Dilly,  the  old  servant,  brought  up  under  her  own 
teaching,  conformed  so  far  as  the  natural  exuberance 
of  the  African  temperament  allowed,  and  regarded 
her  position  as  of  a  dignity  beyond  the  comprehension 
of  any  one  not  born  in  Plymouth.  To  Marion,  in 


BALLANTYNE 


her  first  years  there,  it  was  not  quite  plain  whether 
Dilly  herself  had  landed  on  Plymouth  Rock  or  merely 
been  there  as  guide  and  general  counsellor  when  the 
Pilgrims  appeared.  The  pewter  platters  of  that  first 
generation  still  stood  on  the  dresser ;  the  old  sideboard 
held  tankards  as  old  ;  and  the  whole  house,  with  its 
mingling  of  spoils  from  all  countries,  seemed  made  for 
story,  and  to  promise  a  revelation  from  every  corner. 

It  was  Dilly  who  made  life  tolerable  at  Plymouth, 
since  Grandmother  Barstow  had  not  only  the  theories 
of  Aunt  Priscilla,  but  much  more  power  to  carry 
them  out;  and  Marion  did  her  lessons  and  a  stent 
of  patchwork,  deeply  loathed  but  impossible  to  evade, 
before  escape  came  to  the  old  garden  or  the  big  barn. 
There  were  no  children  to  play  with  —  none,  that  is, 
within  the  range  of  Grandmother  Barstow's  theories, 
since  there  were  neither  young  men  nor  maidens  left, 
the  West  having  swallowed  them  all.  The  doctor 
and  the  judge  came  once  a  week  to  play  whist ;  the 
judge  with  a  light-minded  old  wife  who  wore  pink 
ribbons  on  her  cap  and  a  row  of  little  curls  on  each 
side  of  her  pretty  old  face,  and  on  one  never-to-be- 
forgotten  afternoon,  when  Marion  and  her  grand 
mother  had  been  invited  to  tea,  danced  down  the 
long  parlor,  to  show  Marion  how  she  had  opened  the 
governor's  ball  with  the  governor  himself,  quite  fifty 
years  ago. 

Here  there  was  neither  rowing  nor  running  wild, 
since  Grandmother  Barstow  followed  every  move 
ment,  and  free  action  extended  only  to  garden  and 


io  BALLANTYNE 

barn,  with  permission  now  and  then  for  the  shore, 
and  no  loophole  for  climbing  on  rocks  or  any  search 
for  shore  treasures.  Even  her  father  had  no  power 
here,  though  to  both  Plymouth  grandmother  and  Nan- 
tucket  grandfather  the  same  formula  was  written : 
"  Leave  Marion  to  herself  in  all  ways  where  it  does 
not  conflict  with  submission  to  the  general  order  of 
the  house." 

In  this  last  clause  lay  the  only  loophole  of  retreat. 
The  "general  order,"  for  Plymouth,  was  inflexible 
and  covered  all  emergencies  of  life,  and  the  work  of 
the  eight  months  of  Boston  license  must  also,  as  far  as 
possible,  be  undone  in  the  two  in  which  her  theories 
had  no  combatant  save  Marion's  silent  protest. 

For  Boston  was  a  life  no  less  distinct  and  apart 
from  ordinary  experience.  Gardiner  Lacy,  after  Har 
vard  and  the  Law  School  were  left,  had  gone  into 
practice  with  an  old  friend  of  his  father's,  a  silent 
and  absorbed  bachelor  for  whom  the  boy  had  been 
named,  and  who,  dying  a  few  years  later,  left  him  his 
fortune  and  an  old  house  on  Pinckney  Street.  Here 
the  young  man  had  gone  at  once,  bringing  there  in 
time  the  delicate  young  wife,  frail  as  one  of  the  wind- 
flowers  of  her  own  Cape,  her  silent  and  repressed 
childhood  having  given  no  store  of  vitality  for  any 
later  needs  of  living. 

To  her  husband,  absolutely  content  and  with  small 
knowledge  of  other  women,  her  weakness  seemed 
quite  in  the  order  of  things ;  nor  did  he  question,  till 
brought  face  to  face  with  the  fact,  that  such  strength 


BALLANTYNE  n 

as  she  had  had  been  spent  in  giving  life  to  the  baby, 
just  old  enough  now  to  put  out  tiny  arms  and  demand 
the  attention,  which  he  gave  with  a  curious  deference, 
as  if  already  there  were  right  to  claim  it.  Nothing 
could  avert  the  slow-coming  death.  For  months  he 
travelled  with  her,  in  vain  search  of  health,  bringing 
her  back  at  last  to  the  old  house  for  which  she  longed 
steadily ;  and  there,  when  Marion  was  barely  two 
years  old,  she  died. 

From  the  beginning  the  baby  had  been  and  re 
mained  the  charge  of  a  vigorous  young  English 
nurse,  who  had  already  served  her  apprenticeship  at 
home,  and,  brought  up  in  the  simple  methods  that 
give  strength  and  sturdiness  to  English  children,  bade 
fair  to  escape  any  inherited  evil  tendencies.  A  house 
keeper,  also  English,  a  woman  in  middle  life,  brought 
over  by  Mr.  Lacy  on  one  of  his  return  trips  from 
abroad,  administered  all  household  matters,  and  the 
home  settled  into  fixed  lines,  the  father  dining  alone, 
but  having  the  child  brought  in  with  dessert,  and  fall 
ing  at  last  into  an  almost  undeviating  routine. 

With  summer  came  the  only  break.  Then,  with 
a  vague  consciousness  that  his  habits  were  very  un- 
American,  and  must  as  far  as  necessary  be  counter 
acted,  Marion  was  sent  for  two  months  each  to  the 
old  houses ;  at  first  with  her  nurse,  but  on  Aunt  Pris- 
cilla's  remonstrance,  quite  alone,  that  she  might  learn 
self-reliance.  For  himself,  lest  he  should  be  tempted 
to  interfere,  he  went  abroad  the  last  of  June,  and  came 
home  the  last  of  September,  having  first  seen  Marion 


12  B  A  LL  A  NTYN  E 

safely  settled  at  Nantucket,  always  with  the  promise 
that  as  soon  as  old  enough  she  should  go  with  him. 

The  same  curious  deference  that  had  followed  her 
babyhood  remained  part  of  her  childhood  also.  They 
were  companions,  since,  from  the  time  she  could  lift 
the  tea-pot,  Marion  in  a  high-chair  presided  at  the 
breakfast  table  eating  her  own  bowl  of  porridge  and 
milk,  with  contented  acceptance  of  the  fact  that 
grown-up  people  had  things  it  was  quite  right  to 
deny  to  children. 

A  student  in  many  lines  outside  his  profession,  the 
father's  home  life  was  chiefly  in  the  great  library  built 
out  at  the  back  of  the  house  and  lined  with  tall  book 
cases,  where  Marion  had  liberty  to  work  her  own 
will.  A  governess  came  three  hours  a  day.  There 
was  no  school,  for  he  did  not  believe  in  the  forcing 
system.  Marion  had  her  own  table  and  chair  in  one 
corner,  and  sat  there  in  the  evening  till  bedtime,  lost 
in  her  books,  save  at  moments  when  she  looked  up  to 
find  her  father's  eye  upon  her,  and  exchanged  the 
smile  which  testified  to  good  fellowship.  Sometimes 
he  pushed  away  the  book  and  stretched  out  his  hand ; 
and  then  she  stood  between  his  knees  and  told  him 
of  her  day,  and  asked  him  grave  questions  about  his ; 
and  sometimes,  pacing  up  and  down  the  room,  the 
small  Marion,  with  hands  clasped  like  his  behind  her, 
kept  by  his  side  and  listened  to  ballad  or  sonnet  or 
whatever  came  to  his  mind,  adding  her  own  contri 
bution  and  laying  in  great  store  to  this  end.  At 
times  other  children  were  brought  in,  and  of  one  or 


BALLANTYNE  13 

two  she  grew  fond ;  but  her  life  was  too  apart  from 
theirs,  and  the  methods  pursued  in  her  own  case  too 
unlike  ordinary  ones,  to  make  her  desire  much  beyond 
the  daily  routine. 

When  spring  came  they  rowed  on  the  river, — 
down  to  which  they  looked  from  the  bay-window  of 
the  drawing-room.  They  took  long  walks  together, 
for  each  day  had  its  allotted  time  in  the  open  air. 
But  the  freedom  of  childhood  had  no  place  save  at 
Nantucket.  Here  Marion  revelled,  and  would  joy 
fully  have  stayed  the  entire  summer,  but  for  the 
promise  long  ago  made  her  mother,  that  time  should 
be  equally  divided  between  the  two  houses. 

Grandfather  Lacy  knew  her  better  than  anybody, 
better  even  than  her  father,  whose  silent  subdued  life 
brought  out  none  of  the  wild  eager  strain  that  came  to 
her  with  every  breath  of  the  great  sea.  In  Boston  she 
knew  nobody  save  the  decorous  elderly  cousins,  who 
called  at  stated  intervals  and  shook  their  heads  at  the 
way  the  child  was  growing  up.  It  was  in  Nantucket 
that  she  first  learned  what  human  interests  meant, 
and  carried  back  the  restlessness  born  of  their  lack, 
but  not  yet  tangible  enough  to  work  any  change  in 
routine. 

Plymouth  and  its  inflexibilities  came  always  be 
tween  and  stifled  rising  impulses ;  and  when  the 
two  months  were  over,  home  seemed  too  delicious 
a  relief  to  even  think  of  question.  But  at  Plymouth 
there  were  always  Dilly's  stories  for  resource,  and 
something  almost  as  fascinating  in  the  great  chimney, 


i4  BALLANTYNE 

which  began  in  the  cellar,  a  pile  of  masonry  big 
enough  to  make  an  ordinary  house,  and  pushed  its 
way  through  the  centre,  narrowing  as  it  went.  Half 
the  way  up,  on  the  second  landing  of  the  old  stairway, 
a  little  door  opened  into  it,  just  big  enough  for 
Marion's  fair  little  head  to  enter  and  look  far  up  to 
the  patch  of  blue  sky  at  the  top  and  the  darting 
swallows  across  the  blue.  There  were  nests  all  the 
way,  one  close  to  the  opening,  and  she  could  look 
into  the  gaping  mouths  and  hear  the  screaming 
mother  above,  answered  by  a  chatter  from  every  other 
mother  all  the  way  down.  Best  of  all,  something 
that  never  failed,  was  the  bit  of  blue  and  the  glancing 
flight  across  it,  remembered  long  years  later  when, 
under  the  glorious  dome  of  the  Pantheon,  on  that 
square  of  pavement  wet  with  the  dew  of  a  thousand 
years,  she  looked  up  to  the  same  blue  and  the  same 
swift  flight.  But  even  this  at  last  palled,  and  a  great 
weariness  came  upon  her,  and  she  even  pondered 
running  away,  and  getting  back  to  Grandfather  Lacy, 
since  Grandmother  Barstow  grew  more  rigid  every 
day,  and  the  only  break  came  in  the  two  hours  in 
which  she  walked  through  the  old  streets  or  down  the 
shore  road,  dreaming  dreams  of  free  days  to  come. 


Chapter  Second 


DOWN  this  road  Marion  walked  one 
August  afternoon,  looking  off  to  sea 
and  a  sail  or  two  in  the  distance.  The 
heat  lay  shimmering,  a  fine  haze,  bay 
and  rock  and  sandy  shore  absorbing  it  as  if  to  take  in 
store  against  the  coming  winter.  Masses  of  wild 
indigo  were  in  bloom.  Spikes  of  pink  hardhack 
looked  at  her  over  the  gray  stone  wall,  and  clumps  of 
sweet-fern  basking  in  the  sun  filled  the  air  with  their 
warm  spiciness.  Marion  sat  down  by  one  of  them 
and  buried  her  face  in  it,  then  looked  about  at  all  the 
delicate  greenery  of  an  old  New  England  roadside, 
fern  and  brake  and  moss  ;  no  sound  anywhere,  save 
the  drone  of  a  busy  humble-bee  in  the  clover,  and 
beyond  the  light  wash  of  the  water,  lying  glassy  calm 
under  the  afternoon  sky,  this  beating  pulse  on  the 
shore  the  only  token  of  motion  or  life. 

Down  this  road  was  the  one  interesting  point,  — 
a  little  unpainted  weather-beaten  house,  with  roof 
sloping  to  the  ground  and  giving  evidence  of  general 
decrepitude  in  hollowed  ridge-pole  and  bulging  side. 
Through  the  tiny  panes  of  glass  one  saw  only  the 
yawning  fireplace,  the  uneven  floors  and  low  ceiling, 


16  BALLANTYNE 

from  which  the  plaster  had  fallen  in  great  pieces. 
Into  these  windows  Marion  had  often  looked,  begin 
ning  a  year  or  two  before,  when  her  afternoon  walks 
had  been  admitted  as  something  she  might  be  trusted 
to  take  alone.  At  first  it  had  been  with  a  shiver, 
for  strange  shadows  were  in  the  corners,  and  it  even 
seemed  as  if  faces  formed  and  disappeared  and  figures 
flitted  before  the  low  windows.  Then,  in  spite  of 
fear,  came  the  wish  to  enter.  There  might  be  hid 
den  treasure  somewhere.  There  might  be  a  hundred 
things  that  nobody  knew  about,  —  and  why  should 
not  she,  too,  be  a  discoverer  ? 

From  the  first  frightened  stealing  in  to  the  gradual 
sense  of  ownership  was  a  long  step — but  it  came. 
In  the  south  room  upstairs,  a  little  table,  a  splint- 
bottomed  chair,  and  a  battered  tin  basin  still  remained; 
and  here  Marion  labored,  the  dust  of  years  flying 
before  the  stump  of  an  old  broom,  and  sand  tugged 
up  from  the  beach  making  a  carpet  at  last.  The 
little  window  came  to  the  floor,  and  here  she  spread 
great  store  of  sweet-fern,  a  spicy  couch  on  which  she 
lay  and  looked  ofF  to  sea,  dreaming  dreams  that  came 
more  freely  here  than  in  the  sombre  old  house  in  the 
town.  Such  treasures  as  had  no  entrance  there  she 
put  up  here :  gay  stones  and  pebbles  worn  smooth  by 
the  sea;  stray  cockle-shells  or  wreaths  of  seaweed; 
an  empty  hornets'  nest ;  some  birds*  eggs ;  anything 
that  Dilly  would  reject  or  grandmother  frown 
upon. 

This   was   her   own   house.     Here   she   ruled   su- 


BALLANTYNE  17 

preme,  and  in  it  moved  a  strange  company,  whose 
faces  she  saw  and  whose  voices  were  plain,  begin 
ning  with  Peter  Folger  himself,  making  no  protest 
now,  but  accepting  as  companions  any  one  who  came, 
from  the  King  of  the  Golden  River  down  to  Red 
Riding-Hood  herself. 

It  had  been  a  shock,  then,  this  afternoon,  to  find 
that  her  quarters  had  been  invaded ;  that  a  fisherman's 
boat  rocked  near  the  shore,  and  a  little  dory  was 
drawn  up  on  the  beach ;  while  within,  a  woman 
moved  about,  and  in  the  open  doorway  sat  a  little 
figure  so  twisted  and  distorted  that  Marion  shud 
dered.  She  did  not  like  deformity  or  dirt ;  but  as 
the  face  turned  toward  her  and  she  met  the  dark, 
wistful  eyes  fixed  upon  her,  she  came  nearer  invol 
untarily,  and  sat  down  on  the  old  doorstep. 

"  Do  you  live  here  ?  "  she  asked.  u  I  used  to,  — 
I  mean  a  little  every  day.  When  did  you  come  ?  " 

"  Not  long  ago,"  the  child  answered  after  a  pause, 
in  which  he  had  looked  steadily  into  Marion's  face. 
"  Father  came  because  our  house  burned  down  and 
we  had  to  come  somewhere.  He  's  asleep  now,  but 
he  goes  out  fishing,  and  so  do  Hiram  and  Hezekiah. 
They  're  big.  They  're  my  brothers.  I  'm  Zacha- 
riah,  and  I  can't  walk  much.  Did  you  ever  have  a 
house  burn  down  ?  " 

"  Who  're  you  talking  to  ?  "  said  the  woman,  com 
ing  to  the  door,  and  looking  distrustfully  at  Marion. 
"  Mind  what  you  say,  now  ;  and  don't  you  be  sassy 
to  him." 

2 


i8  BALLANTYNE 

"  I  don't  want  to  be,"  said  Marion,  surprised. 
u  I  'm  so  sorry  for  him.  Can't  he  go  anywhere  ?  " 

"  Not  unless  he  's  carried,"  said  the  woman,  with  a 
change  of  tone.  "  He  crawls  round  here  some,  but 
he  can't  so  well  outdoors.  He  don't  much  mind, 
though,  if  I  set  him  where  he  can  look  off." 

"  No,"  said  Zachariah,  with  a  smile  that  lighted 
the  whole  worn  little  face ;  "  I  take  sights  o'  comfort 
just  lookin'." 

"  He  's  seven,"  said  the  woman,  with  a  sigh,  and 
in  a  burst. of  confidence  she  might  not  have  felt  toward 
an  older  listener  added,  "  You  'd  never  think  it  to 
look  at  him.  He  don't  look  more  'n  three  in  size. 
He  hain't  never  had  no  chance.  Zachariah,  he  fell 
out  o'  the  second-story  window  when  he  was  two, 
right  onto  the  doorstep,  an'  he  was  so  smashed  they 
did  n't  think  he  could  be  set  nohow,  an'  so  he  jest  lay, 
an'  the  bones  come  together  most  anyway,  an'  he  's 
all  of  a  twist,  an'  nothin'  to  be  done  unless  you  broke 
'em  an'  started  again.  He  's  crazy  to  go  out  in  the 
boat,  but  he  won't  take  him,  an'  the  boys  can't,  be 
cause  now  they  've  gone  off  to  the  Works  over  across 
the  bay.  I  'd  take  him,  but  for  all  I  've  lived  by  the 
shore  most  all  my  life,  I  can't  handle  an  oar  no 
more'n  a  baby;  an'  his  father's  so  set  agin  him  an' 
everything  he  wants,  I  don't  know  how  he  '11  ever 
get  his  way.  Not  naterally  set.  Abner's  good 
naterally,  but  when  he  gets  a  leetle  too  much  he 's 
set." 

Marion's  eyes  fixed  on  her  forlorn  face  had  seemed 


BALLANTYNE 


to  compel  these  statements ;  and  now  she  turned 
away.  "  Set  a  spell,"  she  said.  "  It  '11  please 
Zach." 

Marion  was  looking  toward  the  little  dory.  Here 
the  inlet  was  smooth  as  glass,  and  she  had  rowed 
where  real  waves  were  rolling  in  on  a  far  bolder 
shore.  Grandmother  Barstow  and  her  injunctions 
receded  into  the  distance. 

"I  can  row,"  she  said.  "My  grandfather  taught 
me.  I  '11  row  him  all  round  the  cove." 

"  Lawful  heart !  "  said  the  woman.  u  I  would  n't 
durst  to  let  you.  You'd  both  be  drowned." 

"  Help  me  with  the  boat,"  said  Marion,  "  and  I  '11 
show  you ;  "  and  she  ran,  and  began  to  push  the  dory. 
The  woman  followed,  and  after  a  moment  pushed 
also.  Marion  sprang  in  and  took  the  oars.  It  was 
delicious  to  feel  them  again,  and  she  rowed  with 
steady  strokes  across  the  inlet  and  back. 

"  Now,"  she  said,  as  she  ran  the  prow  of  the  boat 
up  on  the  shore  again,  "  don't  you  see  that  I  know  ? 
Can't  I  take  him  ?  " 

"  You  do  seem  to,"  said  the  woman,  hesitatingly  ; 
and  Zachariah  put  out  his  two  claws  of  hands  with  a 
silent  imploring  that  went  to  Marion's  heart. 

"  You  must  let  him,"  she  said,  decisively.  "  I  'm 
ten  years  old,  and  my  father  wishes  me  to  do  what  I 

want   to    do,  —  when    it    doesn't  —  con  —  flict " 

she  added,  slowly,  with  a  sudden  memory  of  the 
clause  quoted  by  grandmother.  "  This  does  n't 
conflict,  I  know." 


BALLANTYNE 


Without  a  word  the  woman  brought  out  an  old 
shawl  and  a  pillow,  arranged  both  in  the  bow  of  the 
boat,  and  carried  the  distorted  little  figure  to  it. 
Zachariah  sat  speechless  with  happiness,  while  Marion 
rowed  gently  and  steadily,  as  if  something  precious 
were  in  charge.  Back  and  forth  across  the  inlet, 
and  at  last  straight  out  to  the  mouth  and  the  great 
rock,  and  a  pause  there  while  she  looked  at  the  crop 
of  mussels  and  barnacles  growing  on  it.  Half  an 
hour  of  this,  —  an  ecstasy  to  Zach,  and  hardly  less 
so  to  herself,  —  and  then  she  suddenly  became  con 
scious  that  time  was  flying,  and  that  she  must  go 
home. 

"  I  shall  come  and  do  it  again,''  she  said,  as  Zach 
with  shining  eyes  was  put  back  in  the  doorway  ;  and 
she  hurried  home,  pondering  whether  she  must  tell 
grandmother. 

"  I  shall  tell  father,"  she  said  at  last.  "  Grand 
mother  thinks  everything  is  wicked.  I  won't  tell  her 
unless  I  have  to." 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  on  the  days  when  the  dory 
lay  idle  and  its  master  slept,  Marion  repeated  the 
experience,  and  in  any  time  between  sat  in  the  door 
way  and  told  stories  or  listened  to  Zach's  theories  of 
life.  They  were  very  simple.  To  be  patient  now, 
because  by  and  by  everybody  was  going  to  be  good 
and  he  would  not  have  to  ache  so  much,  and  in  the 
meantime  to  watch  every  inch  of  his  small  world, 
since  each  one  had  its  story  to  tell. 

"  Everything  has  faces  in  it.      Do  you  see  faces  ?  " 


BALLANTYNE  21 

he  said  one  day,  his  eyes  fixed  on  Marion's.     "  Every 
thing  says  things.     Can  you  hear  them  ?  " 

"Sometimes,"  Marion  nodded.  "I  used  to  when 
I  came  down  here  all  alone.  Do  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course.  They  're  my  company.  But  I  like 
you  best  of  all.  Don't  go  away." 

"  I  must,  I  must,"  Marion  said.  "  But  I  will 
come  again ;  yes,  I  will  come  again." 

So  it  was  that  the  talk  ended  almost  daily,  at  last 
with  tears  as  the  days  were  numbered,  and  the  Sep 
tember  wind  ruffled  the  water  of  the  little  inlet,  and 
Zach's  mother  shook  her  head  mournfully  as  she 
looked  at  him.  Daily  Marion  eyed  her  grandmother, 
wondering  if  she  ought  to  tell  before  she  went  away. 
It  was  her  first  secret  and  one  that  weighed  upon 
her,  and  she  had  even  taken  counsel  with  Dilly. 

"  Can  a  person  do  a  thing  because  they  think  it 
is  right  and  helps  somebody  else,  even  when  some 
other  person  thinks  it  is  wrong  ?  "  she  asked ;  and 
Dilly,  after  a  moment's  observation,  said  : 

"  Law,  child  !  Long  's  nobody  's  hurt,  't  ain't  no 
body's  business." 

It  was  with  these  comforting  words  in  her  ears 
that  Marion  went  down  the  shore  road  on  a  day 
later,  now  running,  now  walking,  —  a  still  bright  day, 
hardly  a  white-cap  to  be  seen,  and  an  air  that  made 
her  dance  as  she  went.  It  is  certain  that  grand 
mother,  who  had  last  seen  her  silent  and  subdued, 
eying  her  patchwork  as  an  enemy  to  be  disposed  of 
at  once,  would  not  have  known  her.  Dilly  could 


22  BALLANTYNE 

have  told  a  different  story ;  but  Dilly  was  discreet, 
and  only  shook  her  head  as  she  saw  Marion's  slow 
step  quicken  and  her  eyes  lighten  as  she  opened  the 
old  gate.  Zach  stretched  out  his  arms  as  she  ran  at 
last  toward  him,  and  held  her  hand  tight. 

"  We  '11  have  a  beautiful  row,"  she  said  ;  and  that 
was  all,  till  he  was  safely  on  his  pillow,  the  great 
shawl  wrapped  around  his  chilly  little  body,  and  the 
silent  passage  to  and  fro  had  begun. 

"  A  little  farther,  go  a  little  farther,"  he  begged  at 
last.  "We  can  go  a  little  farther,  because  mother 
is  gone  over  to  the  store,  you  know,  and  won't  get 
back  for  a  good  while."  And  Marion  nodded,  and 
pulled  toward  the  great  rock.  A  bit  of  bright  sea 
weed  had  been  thrown  up  on  it,  and  she  tried  to  get 
it,  making  several  efforts,  since  the  tide  was  setting 
out  and  the  current  was  strong  about  it.  How  it 
happened  she  could  never  tell ;  but  as  she  bent  over 
it  at  last  and  grasped  it,  one  oar  slipped  away  and 
floated  just  beyond  her  reach.  She  tried  to  draw  it 
in  with  the  other,  and  in  the  effort  worked  too  ab- 
sorbedly  to  notice  that  she  was  drifting  farther  out. 
Still  it  evaded  her,  and  she  looked  up  finally,  startled 
to  find  where  she  was,  and  turning  in  sudden  terror 
to  the  rock  and  shore.  Zach's  head  had  fallen  back 
on  the  pillow.  The  sun  shone  warm  on  the  haggard 
little  face,  and  he  had  gone  to  sleep. 

"  I  won't  frighten  him.  It  would  frighten  him  if 
I  called,"  Marion  thought ;  "  and  there  's  nobody  to 
call ;  "  and  again  she  paddled  with  all  her  small  strength, 


BALLANTYNE  23 

quite  conscious  in  the  end  that  she  was  making  no 
headway,  and  that  the  distance  between  her  and  the 
shore  widened  steadily.  Wind  and  wave  worked 
together.  Her  breath  was  quite  gone.  She  stood  up 
and  looked  about,  but  she  was  all  alone,  not  even  a 
distant  sail  within  range. 

u  There  is  always  something  coming,"  she  said.  u  I 
will  watch."  And  she  laid  down  the  oar  and  sat 
quite  silent,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  far  horizon  line. 
Zach  stirred  presently  and  opened  his  eyes,  surprised 
at  a  sudden  sprinkle  of  spray  from  a  wave. 

u  What  a  long  way  out,"  he  said.  "  Why  don't 
you  go  back  ?  " 

"  I  can't,"  said  Marion  with  a  little  gasp,  for  one 
tear  had  fallen  suddenly.  "The  oar  is  gone,  and  the 
tide  is  taking  us  out." 

u  Then  we  are  going  off  together,"  said  Zach, 
placidly.  "  I  wished  we  could  do  it,  and  now  we  are, 
and  we  won't  go  back  again." 

"We  can't  till  they  pick  us  up,"  said  Marion. 
"  And  there 's  nothing  to  do  it." 

"That 's  good,"  said  Zach.  "  I  'm  not  afraid,  for 
I  dreamed  just  now  that  something  beautiful  was 
pulling  the  boat  right  along  j  and  it  must  be,  for  see 
how  she  goes  — just  a  little  rock,  rock,  and  straight 
ahead.  We  're  being  taken  somewhere,  and  it  will 
be  beautiful.  Ain't  you  glad  ?  " 

Marion  was  silent,  but  she  crept  over  next  to  Zach 
and  watched  the  sun  sink  lower  and  lower,  till  at  last 
sea  and  sky  held  only  splendor,  and  their  way  lay 


24  BALLANTYNE 

through  waves  of  crimson  and  gold  and  amethyst ; 
and  then  came  twilight  and  fast-deepening  shadow. 
Only  a  wave  now  and  then  broke  against  the  boat, 
and  Marion,  who  for  a  little  while  had  cried  quietly, 
her  face  turned  from  Zach,  sat  down  in  the  bottom 
and  wrapped  the  great  shawl  about  both.  She  was 
not  cold,  for  at  the  last  moment  Dilly  had  made  her 
put  on  a  warm  jacket,  and  in  the  pocket  were  two 
doughnuts,  one  of  which  she  gave  to  Zach. 

u  Lie  down  !  "  he  said,  presently.  "  Here 's  the 
pillow,  and  it 's  so  nice  to  rock  and  rock  all  the  way 
to  somewhere." 

Marion  obeyed,  worn  out  with  rowing  and  the 
long  watching;  and  soon  the  two  children  slept 
soundly,  while  the  dory  rode  easily  over  the  light 
waves. 

When  Marion  woke  the  stars  were  still  shining, 
but  in  the  east  was  a  faint  streak  of  light,  the  first 
token  of  coming  day.  She  had  been  dreaming,  and 
the  dream  still  held  her.  Old  Peter  Folger  was  there, 
and  he  had  said,  u  Don't  you  be  frightened,  child,  I 
am  taking  you  to  your  grandfather.  He  wanted  you, 
and  this  seemed  the  only  way." 

The  voice  was  so  plain,  the  eyes  looked  at  her  with 
so  much  kindness,  that  she  turned  to  see  him  better, 
and  then  remembered.  She  was  stiff  and  chilled,  and 
stood  up ;  and  then  she  saw  that  a  little  schooner  was 
near,  and  that  a  boat  with  two  men  in  it  was  pulling 
toward  them. 

w  Great  Jehosaphat !  "  one  of  them  cried  as  he  came 


BALLANTYNE  25 

nearer.     "  It 's  two  children  !     For  the  land's  sake, 
how  did  this  happen  ?  " 

"  Be  very  careful.  He 's  badly  broken,"  said 
Marion,  as  one  of  them,  a  grizzled  old  sailor,  caught 
the  side  of  the  dory  and  made  a  movement  to  lift  the 
strange  bundle  on  the  pillow. 

"  It 's  mermaids,"  the  man  said,  as  Zach  sat  up  and 
looked  at  him  calmly.  "  Where  'd  you  come  from 
and  where  you  bound  to  ?  " 

"  We  're  bound  to  a  beautiful  place,"  said  Zach. 
"  Are  you  going  there  too  ?  " 

"Not  unless  Nantucket's  your  harbor,"  the  old 
sailor  answered  after  a  pause  of  amazement.  "  It  '11 
take  the  captain  to  tackle  your  kind.  He  '11  get  it 
out  o'  you  better  'n  I  can,  —  an'  now  you  're  to  come 
in  here." 

He  lifted  Zach  gently.  Marion  stepped  over  the 
side,  and  the  little  dory,  tied  to  the  larger  boat,  followed 
as  they  made  great  strokes  toward  the  schooner,  from 
the  side  of  which  two  or  three  curious  faces  looked 
down.  The  children  were  handed  up,  and  when  a  few 
questions  had  been  asked  and  answered,  Marion  said  : 

"  Can't  you  take  us  back  to  Plymouth  ?  They 
will  all  be  so  frightened  ! " 

« That  mischief  's  all  done,"  said  the  captain. 
"  We  're  bound  for  Nantucket,  an'  we  '11  be  there  by 
afternoon,  —  an'  then  I  '11  telegraph.  What  your 
folks  meant  by  letting  you  handle  a  boat,  a  snipe  like 
you,  beats  me." 

"  They  did  n't,"  said  Marion.     "  I  mean  they  did. 


26  BALLANTYNE 

My  Grandfather  Lacy  at  Nantucket  showed  me  how, 
but  my  grandmother  at  Plymouth  would  n't  let  me,  if 
she  knew." 

"  So  you  're  the  old  captain's  granddaughter,  be 
you  ?  "  said  the  captain.  "  Well,  well !  We  '11 
have  some  breakfast,  an'  then  we  '11  hear  the  whole. 
They  '11  have  been  cruisin'  round  for  you  the  most 
of  the  night,  most  likely,  —  but  there  ain't  no  boats 
in  sight.  There,  there,"  he  added  hastily,  for  Marion's 
eyes  had  rilled  with  tears,  which  she  winked  away. 
"  It  '11  be  all  right  when  you  git  to  grandfather's." 

Marion's  face  cleared  in  spite  of  her  remorse.  To 
see  grandfather  again  was  a  bliss  worth  purchasing  by 
many  sorrows  ;  and  to  be  on  a  real  schooner  and 
watching  all  its  strange  life  was  another  delight  far 
beyond  her  wildest  dreams.  Zach  was  her  chief 
worry  ;  but  the  telegraph  would  clear  up  everything, 
and  in  the  meantime  he  was  supremely  happy.  So 
the  strange  day  wore  away,  and  at  sunset,  after  long 
hours  of  beating  against  a  head  wind,  they  dropped 
anchor  in  Nantucket  harbor,  and  the  captain  himself 
carried  Zach  in  his  arms  up  the  old  street  and  to  the 
house.  Marion's  heart  failed  her  as  she  thought  of 
Aunt  Priscilla,  but  she  went  in  quietly,  showed  the 
captain  into  the  parlor,  and  then  looked  into  the  din 
ing-room  for  her  grandfather.  His  chair  stood  as 
usual  before  the  secretary,  but  was  empty,  and  she 
ran  upstairs  with  a  sudden  frightened  pause  as  Aunt 
Priscilla  came  out  of  her  father's  room,  uttering  a  low 
cry  as  she  faced  her. 


BALLANTYNE  27 

"  How  did  you  know  ?  "  she  asked.  "Who  brought 
you  ?  Can  you  be  very  quiet,  Marion  ?  He  has  never 
stopped  wanting  you, —  but  you  '11  kill  him  if  you  cry 
or  go  on." 

She  pushed  the  child  before  her  as  she  spoke,  and 
opened  the  door.  Marion  was  trembling  as  she  went, 
and  stood  there  dumb  ;  for  grandfather  lay  on  his  bed 
with  closed  eyes,  breathing  heavily. 

"  Sit  down  by  him,"  said  Aunt  Priscilla.  "  He  '11 
know  you  as  soon  as  he  opens  his  eyes." 

Know  her  ?  Why  should  he  not  know  her  ? 
Marion  sat  down  as  she  was  bid  and  waited,  touch 
ing  at  last  the  old  hand  that  lay  outside  the  coverlet, 

the   handsome    hand   that   no   seafaring   had   ever 

harmed,  and  that  he  admired  quite  impersonally,  since 
it  was  the  Lacy  hand,  the  possession  of  generations. 
The  veins  were  blue  and  swollen,  but  it  seemed  for 
all  that  almost  lifeless,  till  her  own  warm  little  hand 
touched  it.  He  stirred  then  and  moaned  a  little, 
and  slowly  opened  his  eyes  till  they  rested  full  on 
Marion's  face.  From  what  far-away  distance  they 
looked,  till  he  had  struggled  back  and  put  out  his 
arms  with  the  old  smile  ! 

"  There  she  is,"  he  said,  slowly  and  with  difficulty. 
"  Just  as  I  thought !  Come  up  here,  my  pet,  by 
grandfather,  and  we  '11  have  a  little  talk." 

Marion  had  dropped  her  hat  on  the  floor,  and  now 
she  climbed  up  silently  to  the  great  old-fashioned  bed, 
and  nestled  in  his  arms,  her  cheek  against  his. 

"So   they    let  you  come,  pet,"  he  said  presently, 


28  BALLANTYNE 

with  long  pauses  between  the  words.  "I  didn't 
know  how  they  would  manage  it,  since  Gardiner  is 
off.  But  I  wanted  you,  and  so  they  sent.  I  'd  no 
thought  of  you  before  to-morrow.  You  're  just  in 
time,  my  pet, — just  in  time.  Sails  all  furled  and 
the  anchor  ready  to  drop." 

What  did  he  mean  ?  His  voice  had  failed  again, 
and  Aunt  Priscilla  came  near  and  gave  him  some 
drops  from  a  bottle  on  the  stand,  and  then  stood  there 
quite  still.  The  doctor  had  come  in,  too,  and  took 
his  hand,  and  then  laid  it  down  silently. 

"  Let  her  alone,"  he  said,  as  Aunt  Priscilla  made  a 
motion  to  lift  Marion  down.  "  Let  her  alone. 
There  is  nothing  now  but  that." 

"  Grandfather  !  "  Marion  cried  in  sudden  terror, 
for  he  lay  quite  motionless,  and  one  arm  that  had 
folded  her  had  slipped  away.  "  Oh,  grandfather ! 
What  is  it?" 

"  Come,  pet,  they  are  all  there,  and  you  shall  go, 
too,"  he  said  suddenly,  in  a  clear,  full  voice,  lifting  his 
head.  Then  it  fell  back,  and  all  was  still  again ;  and 
when  the  silence  had  lasted  a  long  time,  and  grew 
deeper  and  deeper,  Marion,  though  she  still  clung, 
was  aware  that  something  strange  and  new  had 
begun.  But  she  did  not  stir  till  the  old  doctor,  with 
tears  streaming  down  his  face,  took  her  in  his  arms 
and  said  : 

"  Come,  child  !     All  you  could  do  for  him  is  done. 
He  's  dead." 


Chapter  Third 


r~m — THROUGH    all    her    life,    the    days    that 
fe  followed  seemed  to  Marion  part  of  the 

I  dream  begun   in  the  little  boat,  as   she 

M  floated  on  that    night  under    the  stars. 

Grandmother  had  come,  and  Dilly,  and  Zach's 
mother,  but  nobody  reproached  her.  On  the  con 
trary,  Dilly  looked  at  her  with  a  certain  awe,  as  one 
just  emerged  from  some  land  of  mystery,  and  spoke 
to  her  in  whispers.  Most  of  them  did  that,  and  stole 
about  on  tiptoe  \  and  even  when  they  met  at  table 
the  voices  were  muffled,  as  if  there  were  some  one 
who  must  not  hear.  Marion  sat  silently  in  corners, 
as  she  had  learned  to  do  with  grandmother,  only  wish 
ing  that  she  might  see  Zach,  who  with  his  mother 
had  been  sent  back  on  the  next  boat,  crying  vainly 
for  another  look,  and  hardly  comforted  by  remember 
ing  of  what  wonders  he  had  been  a  part. 

Marion  had  seen  grandfather  once.  They  had  put 
him  in  the  coffin,  and  he  lay  there  smiling  and  young, 
and  certainly  not  the  grandfather  she  had  ever  known. 
People  came  steadily,  and  the  boat  brought  more,  and 
at  last  on  the  fourth  day  there  was  a  funeral  in  the 
old  Quaker  fashion,  though  all  the  ministers  were 


30  BALLANTYNE 

there.  The  old  captains  bore  the  coffin,  and  all  the 
town  followed  in  long  lines  through  the  crooked 
streets,  and  up  the  windy  hill  where  she  had  played, 
and  where  they  laid  him  in  sight  of  the  sea. 

u  Man  is  as  grass  and  as  the  flower  of  the  field,'' 
the  Quaker  preacher  had  broken  out  suddenly,  in  the 
strange,  high-pitched  voice,  that  seemed  to  have  the 
sound  of  the  wind  in  it,  and  that  went  on  and  on  with 
its  burden  of  man's  frailty  and  the  nothingness  of 
earth. 

"  They  said  he  would  rise  again,  —  but  he  can't  in 
that  awful  box,"  Marion  thought ;  and  as  the  first 
shovelfuls  of  earth  fell  on  the  lid  she  cried  : 

"  Grandfather  !  grandfather  !  Oh,  take  him  out ! 
You  must  n't  leave  him  shut  up  so  !  " 

She  threw  herself  down  by  the  grave,  a  passion  of 
tears  and  sobs  shaking  her.  Then  some  one  lifted  her, 

and  her  father's  voice  whispered,  "  Hush,  Marion, 

and  soon  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it ;  "  and  she  clung  to 
him  silently  till  the  grave  was  filled,  and  the  people 
turned  away,  and,  to  the  scandal  of  everybody,  Gard 
iner  Lacy,  instead  of  going  home,  walked  toward  the 
old  windmill  with  Marion  in  his  arms.  There  he  sat 
down  and  told  her  what  she  never  forgot,  —  that  peo 
ple  made  death  terrible  because,  no  matter  what  they 
said,  they  did  not  believe  that  it  was  a  great  gift  and 
not  a  curse. 

"  Live  well.  Think  high  thoughts.  Be  kind  and 
loving  and  generous  and  fearless,  like  grandfather ; 
and  when  the  day  comes  that  you  must  take  your 


BALLANTYNE  31 

turn,  and  lie  with  shut  eyes  till  they  put  you  out  of 
sight,  you  will  open  them  on  something  more  beauti 
ful  than  you  ever  dreamed,  and  it  will  be  forever." 

Never  had  he  spoken  such  words  before,  nor  did 
they  come  again.  Marion  held  him  tight,  quiet  and 
comforted,  even  jubilant  at  last,  as  one  to  whom  a 
great  good  was  to  come.  But  though  she  ran  down 
the  hill,  she  grew  silent  again  as  they  went  into  the 
house ;  for  grandmother  was  there  to  tell  the  tale  of 
her  misdoing,  and  it  was  uncertain  what  might  happen. 

No  clue  came  to  her  as  to  what  had  been  said,  nor 
did  she  see  grandmother  till  supper  time.  And  then 
every  one  listened  to  old  Friend  Barstow,  as  he  finished 
a  story  begun  on  the  porch,  the  beginning  of  which 
Marion  resolved  must  be  hers  as  soon  as  she  could 
find  him  alone.  It  was  the  story  of  a  wreck  which 
had  happened  off  the  Irish  coast,  part  of  the  work  of 
a  terrible  storm,  which  her  father  said  he  had  encoun 
tered  also  on  the  way  home.  In  it,  said  the  Friend, 
a  far-away  cousin  had  been  lost  with  one  of  the  two 
children  —  lost  near  shore,  though  as  yet  no  details 
had  come,  and  they  only  knew  that  the  mother  and 
one  child  were  saved.  He  knew  all  the  Ballantynes, 
and  he  shook  his  head  as  he  ended. 

"  I  hope  it 's  a  John  that 's  come  to  land,"  he  said. 
"  There  's  been  a  John  Ballantyne  in  the  family  ever 
since  the  first  Ballantyne  set  foot  in  America.  It 
would  be  a  pity  if  the  old  name  ran  out." 

Marion  listened  with  a  shiver.  This  blue  sea 
could  be  cruel,  she  knew,  but  to  her  it  had  always 


32  BALLANTYNE 

been  kind;  nor  could  she  understand  the  sudden 
passion  with  which  her  father  caught  her  as  he  came 
out  from  another  shorter  talk  with  grandmother,  hold 
ing  her  close  as  he  said  : 

"  God  !  To  think  of  what  might  have  happened!" 
"  Your  father  does  not  think  as  I  do,"  grandmother 
said,  severely,  when  she  next  saw  Marion.  "  You 
have  deceived  me  for  a  long  time.  I  shall  ask  you 
no  questions,  because  I  do  not  wish  to  hear  any  false 
hoods,  but  I  certainly  shall  not  trust  you  again,  and 
it  is  my  opinion  you  ought  to  be  sent  to  a  very  strict 
school,  where  you  would  be  watched  all  the  time. 
That  a  merciful  Providence  interfered,  and  that  you 
were  brought  here,  makes  no  real  difference.  You 
have  been  a  very  wicked  child,  and  that  your  father 
makes  light  of  it  is  all  the  worse  for  you." 

u  I  wanted  to  tell  you,  —  I  thought  about  it  a  good 
deal,"  said  Marion,  whose  face  had  flushed  hotly,  and 
who  was  trembling  a  little.  u  It  was  for  Zach,  really. 
I  mean  I  wanted  to  anyway,  and  you  think  everything 
is  wicked,  and  I  knew,  —  I  knew  that  that  was  not ;  " 
and  Marion,  with  a  burst  of  tears,  ran  out  of  the 
room  and  hid  herself  in  the  garden  between  the  rows 
of  corn,  till  she  heard  her  father's  voice  calling. 
The  boat  was  there.  They  were  all  to  go  together; 
and  as  they  sailed  away  toward  Martha's  Vineyard, 
from  which  long  ago  old  Peter  Folger  had  rowed 
across  to  the  Nantucket  shore,  she  looked  at  all  and 
remembered,  unconscious  of  the  years  that  would 
pass  before  it  met  her  eyes  again. 


BALLANTYNE  33 

Leaning  over  the  side,  she  watched  the  furrow  in 
the  water,  and  tried  not  to  think  how  it  must  seem 
to  be  struggling  in  these  waves  on  which  she  had 
always  ridden  so  lightly.  But  the  faces  of  the  two 
children  seemed  rising  and  falling  with  each  one  that 
broke  against  the  boat ;  and  she  cried  out  at  last,  and 
ran  to  her  father,  who  sat  just  inside  the  cabin  door, 
talking  with  grandmother  and  the  other  people,  who 
were  all  relations. 

u  The  child  will  be  sick.  She 's  next  door  to  it 
now  !  "  one  of  them  said  ;  and  Gardiner  Lacy  looked 
at  her  anxiously,  and  for  a  day  or  two  afterward 
watched  every  movement. 

Something  must  be  done.  It  was  quite  plain  that 
she  had  been  too  much  with  her  elders  ;  and  at  last 
he  took  counsel  with  the  one  cousin  for  whom  he  had 
always  had  a  certain  affection,  —  a  woman  of  the 
world,  but  one  who  had  loved  his  wife  and  been  loved 
in  return.  To  her  belonged  the  three  children,  two 
girls  and  a  boy,  who  came  sometimes,  but  whom 
Marion  had  never  visited  in  turn,  and  whom  her 
father  watched  as  if  they  were  creatures  of  another 
planet,  and  not  to  be  trusted  save  when  his  eyes  were 
on  them. 

The  consultation  changed  his  plans  entirely. 
Marion  must  work  at  home,  but  he  decided  that  the 
three  should  study  with  her,  share  her  one-o'clock 
dinner,  and  play  for  an  hour  or  two  after  it  was  over, 
and  before  they  left  her  to  the  silence  of  the  great 
rooms,  which  each  day  thereafter  grew  noisier,  since 

3 


34  BALLANTYNE 

the  three  took  full  possession,  led  always  by  Marion, 
who  developed  tendencies  unsuspected  by  the  decor 
ous  housekeeper,  and  made-believe  all  the  day  long. 
Everything,  from  ballad  to  page  in  history,  turned 
into  drama,  the  old  dining-room  a  stage.  She  went 
to  the  block  in  a  hundred  characters.  Now,  Mary 
Queen  of  Scots,  with  piano-cover  train,  and  Nell  and 
Bess  as  Mary  Seaton  and  Mary  Beaton,  weeping 
behind  her,  Tom  marching  solemnly  before  with  the 
kitchen  hatchet  as  axe.  She  was  Madame  Roland  ; 
she  was  Jeanne  d'Arc ;  anything  beautiful  and  un 
fortunate  and  evil-treated,  though  sometimes  with 
sudden  remorse  at  her  own  selfishness  she  renounced 
the  chief  part  and  followed  one  or  the  other.  The 
chief  part  had  even  been  given  to  Tom,  who  as  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh  spread  a  small  and  dingy  red  cape  as 
cloak  under  her  queenly  feet,  or  as  Sir  Philip  Sidney, 
lay  rigidly  on  his  back  and  sternly  motioned  away  the 
cup  of  water  brought  by  Marion  disguised  as  a  soldier 
in  her  father's  soft  hat  and  an  old-fashioned  military 
cloak.  There  was  a  Mexican  poncho  that  answered 
for  Columbus  when  he  came  before  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella ;  and  in  time  various  properties  accumulated, 
but  with  no  less  necessity  for  much  make-believe. 

So  long  as  this  lasted,  all  went  well ;  but  it  was  a 
different  matter  when  they  settled  to  talk,  and  Marion 
listened  to  heated  discussions  as  to  what  they  would 
do  when  they  grew  up ;  who  ought  to  be  visited;  who 
were  nice  people,  and  who  were  not. 

"You    could    be    more    exclusive    than    anybody, 


BALLANTYNE  35 

mamma  says,"  said  Bess  one  day.  "You  have  a 
right  to  be,  because  you  are  one  of  the  oldest  fami 
lies  ;  and  when  you  are  a  young  lady  you  can  do  as 
you  choose  and  nobody  will  dare  to  say  anything 
much,  and  the  people  in  the  North  End  and  such 
places  will  be  very  envious  and  wish  they  could  do 
so,  too." 

"  Why    should  n't    they  ?  "     said     Marion,    sitting 
down   suddenly  and   looking  attentively  at   Bess. 

"  Why,  because  they  can't,  you  know.  They  're 
common,  you  see.  They  don't  live  in  the  right 
places.  When  you  're  fashionable,  you  live  in  the 
right  places.  You  've  got  to  be  kind  to  them,  but 
you  can't  go  to  see  them,  because,  don't  you  see  ? 
they  're  not  in  society.  That 's  what  mamma  said 
when  I  wanted  Eva  Hopkins  to  come  and  see  me, 
and  then  I  found  out  her  father  had  a  grocery,  and  it 
would  n't  do,  and  I  told  her,  and  she  cried  first,  and 
then  she  was  mad  and  said  she  'd  show  me  some  day 
she  was  as  good  as  I  was.  Mamma  said  this  was 
impossible,  because  there  were  always  differences 
everywhere,  and  papa  said  the  same,  and  that  we 
must  never  play  with  promiscuous  children,  out  of 
our  own  set,  you  know." 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  shall  do  as  soon  as  I  am 
big  ?  "  said  Marion,  after  a  pause  in  which  she  had 
looked  at  the  three  children  reflectively.  "  I  shall  get 
father  to  let  me  live  half  the  time  with  the  very  poor 
est  people  I  can  find.  Poor  like  Zach,  I  mean. 
Zach  was  n't  common.  Oh,  no.  He  thought 


36  BALLANTYNE 

about   wonderful   things   that   you   don't  know  any 
thing   about.     Oh,  how  I   want  to  see   him  !  " 

Her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Summer  was  near,  but 
she  did  not  yet  know  what  would  be  done,  and  in  all 
these  months  there  had  been  no  word  of  Zach,  save 
the  one  in  answer  to  her  father's  letter,  sent  to  them 
by  grandmother,  that  she  had  found  the  house  shut 
up  and  nobody  there.  Marion  had  not  even  told 
them  of  Zach.  That  last  day  and  night  were  all  a 
part  of  the  mystery  which  she  kept  quite  to  herself, 
and  now  she  answered  no  questions,  but  sat,  silent 
and  inscrutable,  till  they  were  gone. 

"  You  were  not  polite,"  the  housekeeper  said  ;  and 
Marion,  with  a  dark  look,  replied  : 

"  I  never  mean  to  be  polite,  when  people  say  stupid 
things  or  mean  things." 

June  came,  and  Marion  saw  her  father's  eyes  fixed 
often  upon  her  with  a  question  she  did  not  understand. 

"  If  you  were  but  a  little  older,"  he  said  one  even 
ing  as  she  stood  between  his  knees  ;  "  if  you  were 
just  a  little  older,  I  would  — 

He  shut  his  lips  tightly,  nor  could  any  question 
extract  what  he  would  do ;  but  a  day  or  two  later  he 
said : 

"  I  want  to  take  you  with  me,  Marion,  but  I  am 
afraid  you  are  too  small  a  girl." 

Marion's  eyes  grew  large,  and  the  pink  deepened  in 
her  cheeks.  "  Oh !  "  she  cried,  and  stood  breathless. 

"  There  would  have  to  be  a  maid,"  he  went  on, 
"  and  that  would  be  troublesome." 


BALLANTYNE  3? 

"  There  won't  have  to  be  anybody,"  said  Marion, 
with  decision.  "Didn't  you  have  me  go  to  grand 
father's  without  anybody,  just  to  learn, —  and  can't  I 
button  my  own  shoes,  and  everything  ?  Take  me, 
take  me  !  I  '11  never  be  a  bit  of  trouble,  and  I  am 
big  _  see  !  " 

Gardiner  Lacy  looked  seriously  at  the  little  figure, 
stretched  to  its  utmost,  every  curl  alive  with  eager 
ness,  and  the  deep  blue  eyes  dark  with  excitement. 

"I  am  growing  up,"  she  said.  "I  shall  never 
be  troublesome  any  more,  and  now  I  shall  always  go 
with  you." 

"  Very  well,"  her  father  said  at  last;  and  Marion  in 
a  silent  ecstasy  put  her  hands  on  each  side  of  his 
face,  and  kissed  him  in  her  favorite  fashion,  on  eyes 
and  lips. 

So  it  happened,  with  no  more  words,  that  the 
steamer's  list  read,  "  Gardiner  Lacy  and  daughter," 
and  that  the  old  order  gave  way  to  the  new,  with 
only  a  little  consternation  on  the  part  of  the  few  ob 
jectors,  and  unlimited  satisfaction  for  the  two  most 
nearly  concerned.  If  in  the  first  years  there  were 
strange  lapses  or  combinations  in  Marion's  raiment, 
there  was  small  consciousness  of  it  for  either,  and  he 
learned  at  last  to  take  her  over  with  only  her  single 
travelling  suit,  and  buy  as  was  needed  in  the  London 
shops,  where  they  were  soon  known  and  established 
as  favorites,  since  they  wanted  the  best  and  took  it 
without  question  as  to  price. 

For  a  month  each  year  they  stayed  in  London  with 


38  BALLANTYNE 

a  friend  of  her  father's,  whose  interests  outside  his 
profession  were  chiefly  Assyrian  antiquities,  and  with 
whom  Marion  held  grave  discussions,  standing  at  his 
side  in  the  British  Museum,  and  perplexing  herself 
over  the  inscrutable  yet  light-minded  grin  of  these 
representatives  of  Assyrian  dynasties.  But  chiefest 
came  the  exploration  of  old  London  itself,  which  she 
grew  to  know  inch  by  inch,  her  father's  love  for  the 
story  of  the  past  making  it  alive  again.  English 
literature  thus  took  on  a  meaning  unknown  to  the 
colder  student,  and  Marion  with  each  year  grew  more 
and  more  into  passionate  sympathy  with  all  on  Eng 
lish  soil,  and  replied  with  fervor  to  questions  :  "  Oh, 
yes ;  I  was  born  in  America,  but  I  am  English, 
too  !  " 

So  Scotland,  England,  and  at  last  bits  of  Ireland 
also  came  to  be  familiar  ground,  and  the  nine  months 
of  home  were  principally  retrospect  and  expectation, 
with  an  added  interest  which  was  tolerated  in  spite  of 
her  Aunt  Theodosia's  opposition.  Zach  had  gone 
quite  out  of  her  life ;  but  he  had  left  an  open  door 
through  which  all  wandering  and  forlorn  children 
found  entrance.  There  were  plenty  of  streets  lead 
ing  off  the  hill,  in  which  tenement-houses  rose  and 
squalid  children  swarmed ;  and  Marion  brought  them 
home  in  twos  and  threes,  and  washed  and  scrubbed 
and  combed,  till  the  real  child,  warmed  and  filled  and 
made  glad  with  stories,  showed  the  face  meant  for  it 
in  the  beginning. 

"  Let  her  alone,"  her  father  said  to  all  complaints. 


BALLANTYNE  39 

"  When  she  does  something  wrong  it  will  be  time  to 
interfere." 

That  he  himself  felt  absolute  helplessness  in  facing 
this  order  made  no  difference;  Marion  did  not.  She 
understood,  and  if  no  other  result  came,  it  was  better 
than  Aunt  Theodosia's  system,  reduced  to  certain 
yearly  subscriptions  and  eliminating  the  human  ele 
ment  as  successfully  as  most  systems.  Bess  and 
Nell  were  in  a  fashionable  school,  and  Tom  just 
entering  Harvard,  a  supercilious  young  freshman,  yet 
sufficiently  a  student  to  run  some  chance  of  escaping 
its  worst  elements. 

Marion's  interest  in  people  grew  rather  than  les 
sened.  At  seventeen  she  seemed  already  a  woman, 
and  Aunt  Theodosia  groaned  as  she  looked  at  her. 

"  That  child  has  a  distinguished  look,  Gardiner," 
she  said  one  day,  stopping  him  on  his  way  out  from 
the  library.  "  Of  course  I  can  see  that,  but  she  is 
absolutely  indifferent  to  style,  and  I  believe  she  would 
rather  sit  on  the  stairs  of  a  tenement-house  and  talk 
to  the  children,  than  go  to  the  choicest  gathering  of 
the  season.  You'll  ruin  her  prospects." 

"  What  are  they  ?  "  said  Mr.  Lacy,  after  a  pause, 
in  which  Mrs.  Barstow  noted  that  he  was  much 
thinner  than  a  year  ago,  and  looked  at  that  moment 
very  strangely  old. 

"  To  marry  well,  of  course  !  "  she  said,  unhesitat 
ingly.  "  But  first  to  make  some  distinct  place  in 
society.  Her  name  and  her  fortune  entitle  her  to  it. 
I  don't  mean  that  she  has  n't  it.  Of  course,  her  name 


40  BALLANTYNE 

will  take  her  anywhere  —  everywhere,  certainly,  that 
is  worth  while  ;  but  that  is  n't  enough." 

u  It  must  be  enough  till  she  herself  wishes  more  or 
less,"  he  said,  slowly.  u  When  I  am  gone,  she  will 
be  necessarily  somewhat  more  in  your  hands,  but  not 
long.  I  wish  her  always  to  have  perfect  liberty." 

Mrs.  Barstow  was  silent.  His  manner  forbade 
response,  yet  seemed  to  need  one  ;  and  as  she  hesi 
tated,  the  coachman  rang,  and  she  hurried  away  on 
her  daily  round. 

Two  weeks  later,  Gardiner  Lacy  was  found  sitting 
at  his  writing-table,  on  which  his  head  rested,  quite 
dead,  —  a  little  packet  before  him  marked  "  For 
Marion  only ; "  which,  as  she  opened  it  days  after, 
showed  the  few  letters  her  mother  had  written  him 
during  their  only  separation.  There  had  been  no 
complaint,  no  change  in  daily  routine,  and  they  had 
walked  together  the  day  before,  talking  of  Marion's 
latest  theories  and  hopes  as  to  her  own  life.  Abso 
lutely  stunned  for  a  time,  she  submitted  to  anything 
suggested,  nor  did  she  rouse  till  Mrs.  Barstow  proposed 
to  close  the  house,  spend  a  quiet  winter  in  Rome, 
give  the  summer  to  travel,  and  return  when  the  period 
of  mourning  was  at  an  end. 

"  There  is  something  better  than  that,"  she  said. 
u  I  do  not  want  to  travel  or  anything  else,  but  stay 
where  I  am  now.  I  shall  live  in  the  North  End  and 
work,  and  if  that  does  not  satisfy  me  we  will  talk  about 
something  else  afterward." 

"  My   dear  child  !  "   Mrs.    Barstow  began,  —  and 


BALLANTYNE  41 

then  stopped.  This  year  of  compulsory  quiet  might 
as  well  be  given  to  a  freak.  Marion  was  growing 
every  day  more  charming.  Tom  raved  over  her,  and 
Tom's  classmates  no  less.  Without  positive  beauty, 
since  her  features  were  irregular,  and  her  looks  a 
curious  mixture  of  unworldliness  and  a  subtle  fascina 
tion  of  which  as  yet  she  had  no  consciousness,  it  was 
a  marked  type,  and  no  one  could  say  what  added 
charm  might  come. 

"Daughter  of  Vikings,"  Tom  called  her,  for  she 
kept  the  fair  hair  of  her  childhood,  one  mass  of  ripples, 
which,  though  brushed  straight  back,  loosened  always 
about  the  white  forehead,  each  tendril  holding  sun 
shine.  The  cheek-bones  were  a  little  too  high,  the 
nose  a  distinct  arch,  the  mouth  too  wide,  and  the  chin 
firm  and  too  square.  But  the  eyes  with  their  won 
derful  dark,  deep  blue,  long  lashed,  and  with  the 
unconscious  look  of  a  little  child,  were  her  charm; 
and  when  she  smiled  the  face  held  a  sweet  joyousness 
to  which  Tom  and  many  another  longed  to  add  a 
personal  quality,  which  might  give  some  hope  of 
making  it  their  own.  The  slender,  erect  figure, 
neither  short  nor  yet  tall,  carried  the  feeling  of  health 
and  vigor,  born  of  much  outdoor  life.  By  the  side 
of  the  English  girls  she  knew  she  seemed  frail,  but 
her  strength  and  endurance  were  fully  equal  to  theirs, 
and  they  declared  at  last  that  the  American  type  was 
a  mystery  not  to  be  fathomed  since  each  year  demon 
strated  that  she  was  not  alone  in  her  endowment. 

"  I  shall  not  oppose  you,  Marion,"  Mrs.   Barstow 


B ALLANTYNE 


said,  the  pause  in  which  many  thoughts  and  plans 
darted  indications  through  her  mind  having  been  a 
hardly  perceptible  one.  "  Do  as  you  like,  only 
remember  that  your  father  has  left  you  partly  to  me, 
and  that  my  home  is  yours  also." 

u  How  dear  and  good  you  are  !  "  Marion  said,  with 
sudden  compunction  at  her  own  persistent  rebellion 
against  Aunt  Theodosia's  methods.  It  was  only  a 
difference  of  standpoints,  yet  strive  as  she  would  they 
would  not  become  identical ;  and  when  she  had  taken 
all  the  charm  of  the  gay  life  of  the  whole  family, 
dinners,  operas,  five-o'clock  teas,  Browning  Clubs,  and 
various  aesthetic  distractions,  there  was  always  dissatis 
faction  and  glad  return  to  the  old  ways.  Now  it  had 
ended.  The  old  life  was  done.  There  was  no  more 
companionship  for  her — such  companionship  as  had 
grown  fuller  every  year  and  took  hold  of  every  act 
and  thought  ;  so  satisfying  that  to  come  back  to  it 
had  been  the  crown  of  every  pleasure. 

"  I  shall  never  want  to  marry,"  she  had  said  one 
day  with  a  flush,  as  Aunt  Theodosia  said,  "  When 
you  are  married,  Marion."  "  Marriage  is  n't  every 
thing.  There  is  no  man  alive  that  I  could  spend  a 
lifetime  with  as  I  could  have  done  with  my  father. 
Nobody  knew  his  goodness  and  his  knowledge  so  well 
as  I.  I  never  found  that  he  lost,  even  in  seeing  him 
with  fine  Englishmen  ;  and  not  one  American  in  a 
thousand  can  stand  that  test.  They  are  the  most 
glorious  men  alive.  I  don't  mean  the  kind  you  are 
all  going  wild  over  this  winter  ;  that  unpleasant  young 


BALLANTYNE  43 

lord,  with  bulgy  eyes  and  a  horsey  look.  I  mean  a 
kind  we  seldom  get  here." 

Marion's  eyes  were  dark  as  she  ended,  —  the  look 
that  always  came  with  sudden  earnestness,  and  that 
Tom  said  made  a  delicious  shiver  run  down  his  spine 
and  despair  enter  his  soul ;  and  Aunt  Theodosia,  as 
she  watched,  settled  at  last  that  some  one  over  the  sea 
stood  in  the  way  of  influence  on  this  side,  and  would 
presently  appear  and  make  the  riddle  plain. 

"  She 's  tremendously  chummy,"  said  Tom;  "but 
she  's  so  to  all  of  us,  and  you  never  get  any  farther. 
I  don't  see  how  she  manages." 

Marion  had  her  way.  The  old  house  remained 
open,  moving  on  with  the  same  household  machinery, 
but  she  herself  came  and  went  irregularly.  She  had 
taken  rooms  in  a  side  street ;  fitted  them  up  for  her 
children  ;  studied  kindergarten  methods  with  passion 
ate  interest ;  and  spent  time,  strength,  and  income  in  a 
fight  with  conditions.  As  the  year  ended,  she  gave 
herself  more  to  Aunt  Theodosia  and  her  life,  falling 
into  certain  phases  of  it  with  ease.  She  had  made 
also  little  visits  to  Aunt  Priscilla,  ruling  still  in  the 
old  house  and  looking  with  mingled  pride  and  sus 
picion  at  the  girl  whose  eyes  still  held  secrets  she 
could  not  fathom. 

Marion  had  gone  once  to  Plymouth,  been  wept 
over  by  Dilly,  and  greeted  by  her  grandmother  with  a 
distrust  born  of  her  last  experience  with  her,  and  not 
to  be  wiped  out  by  any  fair  seeming  of  the  present. 
Marion  shrank  from  her  no  less  decidedly,  and  the 


44  BALLANTYNE 

week  ended  with  a  sense  of  great  relief  for  both. 
She  had  walked  down  the  shore  road,  rinding  the 
little  house  given  over  to  a  tumultuous  Irish  family, 
and  gone  home  with  the  feeling  stronger  each  year  : 
u  There  is  nothing  but  sadness  in  the  old  places.  I 
will  not  come  again  unless  I  must." 

To  go  back  to  the  children's  faces  and  all  the 
strange  life  of  the  crowded  streets  was  best.  But 
restlessness  was  upon  her.  She  weighed  and  meas 
ured  ;  fretted  against  obstructions  to  work  and  life ; 
grew  half  despairing  over  the  pressure  that  made 
progress  for  her  poor  well  nigh  impossible ;  and 
at  twenty-one  had  made  up  her  mind.  Aunt  Theo- 
dosia  in  the  meantime  congratulated  herself  that  the 
child  was  settling  at  last  into  delightful  conformity  to 
her  own  standard,  and  developing  simply  unrivalled 
social  powers,  that  made  her  the  magnet  for  all  that 
was  best  and  brightest,  and  faced  her  with  absolute 
consternation  as  Marion  one  day  said,  calmly  : 

"  Aunt  Theodosia,  I  have  settled  finally  what  to 
do.  I  loathe  America.  I  am  going  to  England  to 
live,  and  I  do  not  mean  ever  to  come  back  again." 

"  My  dear  child  !  "  gasped  Aunt  Theodosia. 
"  America  !  Loathe  it !  Why,  America  is  - 

"  I  will  tell  you  what  America  is,"  returned 
Marion,  dispassionately.  "It  seems  to  be  chiefly 
vulgar,  presumptuous  certainty  that  it  knows  all, 
when  it  has  learned  only  the  first  letters  of  its  alpha 
bet.  It  is  a  truckling  and  subserviency  and  snob 
bishness  that  cannot  be  matched  anywhere  else  on  the 


BALLANTYNE  4S 

planet.  It  is  insolence,  and  hard-heartedness,  and 
grinding  the  face  of  the  poor,  and  all  that  is  a  shame 
to  a  country  that  calls  itself  free  ;  and  worst  of  all,  it 
is  faithlessness,  and  indifference,  and  a  base  content 
with  selfish  living.  I  have  watched  it  all  for  a  long 
time,  and  now  I  am  tired,  and  am  going  where  I 
believe  there  is  something  better." 


Chapter  Fourth 


I 


had  been  signs  of  fog  in  the  early 
morning,  but  all  had  vanished,  and  at  two 
Marion  rode  in  on  the  top  of  a  Chelsea 
bus,     descending    at    Westminster,    and 
strolling  toward  St.  James's  Park,  where  she  meant 
to  feed  the  ducks  for  half  an  hour,  and  then  return 
to  the  Abbey,  in  time  for  the  final  anthem,  with  the 
swell  of  the  noble  organ  and   the  fresh  voices  of  the 
Westminster    School    boys     floating    upward    among 
the  pointed  arches.     A  sense  of  exhilaration,  born  of 
many    causes,  filled  her;   the    soft    English  air;    the 
budding  trees ;   the    great   towers    of  Parliament ;   all 
this   wonderful  ground  on   which  she   walked.      Not 
three  weeks  since  she  had   sailed,  yet  the  sense   of 
long-continued   possession  was  strong  upon  her,  and 
she  leaned  over  the  railing  of  the  old  bridge   across 
the  pond,  dropping  crumbs  mechanically  to  the  ducks 
below,    and  remembering   those   last    days   at   home, 
Aunt  Theodosia's  face  of  absolute  and  dignified  dis 
approval,  and   Tom's  frantic  appeals,  both  alike  to 
day  as  remote  as  a  remembered   dream. 

"  If  you  won't  marry  me,  then  for  heaven's  sake 
marry  some  of  the  other  fellows  and  stay  at  home  !  " 


BALLANTYNE  47 

Tom  groaned,  when  every  other  form  of  remon 
strance  and  invective  had  been  tried  in  vain.  "  I  'm 
not  up  to  you,  Marion,  I  know.  I  don't  care  a  rap 
for  anything  but  you,  but  I  'd  do  anything  just 
because  you  want  it,  and  that  's  just  as  good  as  prin 
ciple,  if  you  '11  count  results,  and  not  be  forever  pry 
ing  after  motives.  Oh,  why  won't  you  take  up  with 
some  of  us,  and  stay  where  you  belong  ?  I  won't 
even  envy  the  fellow,  if  you  '11  only  stay  where  I  can 
see  you  ;  and  if  you  won't,  I  '11  shoot  myself  and  then 
haunt  you,  —  see  if  I  don't." 

Tom  ruffled  his  hair  wildly,  and  for  the  time  lost 
entirely  his  expression  of  languid  tolerance  with  its 
undercurrent  of  pessimism,  —  the  Harvard  look  culti 
vated  by  his  particular  set,  —  and  Marion's  eyes 
rested  on  him  for  a  moment  with  more  interest  than 
usual. 

"  Yes,  there  might  really  be  something  there,"  she 
said,  reflectively  ;  "  if  anything  were  worth  while  more 
than  five  minutes  at  a  time.  But  it  is  n't,  you 
know ;  you  have  proved  it  to  me  often,  —  and  noth 
ing  that  you  will  think  or  do  now  is  going  to  make  it 
worth  while,  as  I  can  see.  No,  Tom.  You  may  as 
well  stop  just  here.  I  am  going,  and  I  shall  stay  till 
I  see  good  reason  for  coming  back.  Now  there  is 
not  one,  save  a  little  natural  pull  of  old  associations. 
If  you  want  me  to  change,  you  must  be  quiet." 

Tom  ran  his  hands  through  his  hair  despairingly  ; 
but  Marion  turned  away,  and  she  gave  him  no  fur 
ther  opportunity  for  remonstrance  in  the  fortnight 


48  BALLANTYNE 

which  passed  before  the  final  preparations  were  made. 
When  she  sailed  out  at  last  from  Boston  Harbor  a 
line  of  indignant  and  mourning  friends  stood  on  the 
dock.  Tom  stood  on  the  last  and  shakiest  pile  of 
the  pier,  waving  his  handkerchief,  with  a  wild  wish 
that  he  might  suddenly  go  to  the  bottom  and  thus 
compel  a  temporary  if  not  permanent  interest.  They 
had  all  been  there  when  she  had  sailed  two  summers 
before,  and  she  stood  by  her  father's  side  looking 
back  to  the  gilded  dome  of  the  State  House  and 
the  familiar  spires,  and  then  forward  with  the  glad 
rush  of  thought  toward  the  England  she  loved  ;  and 
her  eyes  filled  with  sudden  tears  as  she  remembered. 
Aunt  Theodosia  had  taken  it  for  granted  that  she 
would  go  to  the  same  old  friends,  with  whom  each 
year  they  had  spent  longer  and  longer  time,  but  still 
suspected  something  else  in  the  background. 

"  As  your  father's  cousin,  and  as  near  as  a  sister  to 
him,"  she  said,  "  I  ought  to  be  allowed  some  ques 
tions.  But  it  was  his  principle  to  leave  you  free 
entirely,  and  I  must  also.  Only,  my  dear  child,  I 
beg  you  not  to  forget  that  English  society  demands 
more  yielding  to  conventionality  than  American,  and 
that  people  there  will  not  know  who  you  are,  as  we 
do,  — r  and  don't  be  too  peculiar." 

Marion  had  smiled,  but  it  was  the  inscrutable 
smile  which  enraged  Tom  and  made  Aunt  Theodo 
sia  feel,  as  she  affirmed,  absolutely  wild  and  as  help 
less  as  a  baby.  That  was  all  over ;  and  as  she 
turned  to  face  the  soft  wind  from  the  sea,  the  spring 


BALLANTYNE  49 

in  her  feet  seeming  to  answer  the  dancing  waves, — 
there  was  only  the  shadow  of  regret.  A  great  expec 
tation  was  upon  her.  Not  a  hope,  since  a  hope  makes 
for  itself  a  definite  formulation,  but  an  outreaching  of 
every  impulse  and  desire  toward  an  unknown  but 
coming  good.  Through  all  the  passage  this  went 
with  her,  the  unseen  but  certain  companion ;  and 
though  she  walked  and  talked  and  played  at  ship's- 
coil  with  the  few  who  kept  their  feet,  and  listened  to 
strange  confidences,  the  necessity  for  which  seems 
born  of  a  sea  voyage,  she  would  have  had  abundant 
companionship  in  this  sense  of  new  life  to  come, 
mysterious,  overflowing  with  possibility,  yet  always 
indefinable. 

One  thing  was  clear.  The  beginning  must  be  left 
unhampered.  For  once  she  would  be  quite  alone, 
quite  free,  and  find  how  far  she  was  sufficient,  how 
far  insufficient,  for  herself.  She  wished  she  were  an 
artist,  since  this  allowed  all  that  she  sought,  and  if 
need  came  it  would  be  very  easy  to  set  up  a  studio 
and  play  again  with  clay  as  she  had  done  at  sixteen. 

"Are  you  going  over  for  work,  or  just  for  plea 
sure  ?  "  a  student  on  his  way  to  Germany  via  Eng 
land  had  asked  her ;  and  after  an  instant's  hesitation 
she  had  answered,  "  To  work." 

The  words  seemed  to  crystallize  all  wandering 
tendencies,  and  she  saw  her  way  clear.  She  would 
begin  in  Chelsea  and  old  Cheyne  Walk,  where  artists 
thronged,  and  where  she  saw  always  the  stately  fig 
ures  that  had  come  and  gone  in  the  days  when  Sir 

4 


5o  BALLANTYNE 

Thomas  More  lived  there  his  gentle  life,  and  the 
form  no  less  a  vision,  —  the  old  man  with  grizzled 
hair  and  heavy  brows,  under  which  the  melancholy 
eyes  looked  out,  pathetic  under  all  the  cynicism. 
Carlyle,  George  Eliot,  Landor,  the  Brownings, — 
the  names  of  a  generation  nearly  gone,  —  all  had  their 
place  in  the  quiet  streets.  She  would  begin  there, 
if  possible,  in  a  house  in  which  some  friends  had 
once  lived,  and  which  also  was  part  of  a  past  gener 
ation.  She  remembered  the  rooms,  overlooking  the 
embankment  and  the  river,  one  of  which  could  easily 
be  studio,  study,  or  what  she  willed.  And  there, 
too,  was  Chelsea  Old  Church,  with 'its  swarm  of 
children,  and  everywhere  forlorn,  bedraggled  women 
making  part  of  the  steady  stream  through  King's 
Road.  There  would  be  plenty  to  help.  That  was 
the  chief  point,  and  for  the  rest  she  would  wait. 

Thus  it  happened  that  after  a  day  or  two  at  the 
little  Quaker  hotel  in  Bishopsgate  Without,  to  which 
she  had  gone  at  once,  and  where  all  remembered  her, 
she  found  the  old  rooms  at  her  disposal,  and  took  up 
her  life  with  the  instant  settling  into  routine  which 
seems  inevitable  in  a  country  where  all  forms  of 
action  have  had  a  thousand  years  and  more  in  which 
to  make  for  themselves  ruts.  As  for  the  house,  it 
kept  its  old  expression  of  a  certain  dingy  stateliness, 
regarded  by  its  present  occupant  as  so  much  more 
capital,  valueless  where  the  average  British  lodger 
was  concerned,  but  a  mine  when  Americans  were  in 
question,  since  they  demanded  the  venerable,  and  even 


B ALLANTYNE 


accepted  general  mustiness  as  its  symbol  and  equiva 
lent.  But  mustiness  had  only  a  small  and  inevitable 
share  in  the  old  house,  scrubbed  and  polished  and 
black-leaded,  and  dealt  with  daily  after  the  most  rigid 
canons  of  British  housekeeping.  There  was  even 
something  military  in  its  exactness,  as  befitted  the 
name  on  the  door.  Mrs.  General  Pattle — for  so 
her  cards  also  read  —  wore  her  hair  in  a  crop  of 
frisky  little  curls,  bleached  to  a  pale  yellow,  and  made 
herself  up  on  the  theatrical  pattern  which  seems  to 
include  one  half  of  the  average  Englishwomen  after 
forty.  For  the  other  division  the  election  is  to  appear 
in  hair  brushed  uncompromisingly  behind  or  over 
the  ears,  and  in  garments  whose  general  defiance  of 
all  laws  of  color,  fit,  or  harmony  are  never-ending 
amazement  to  the  American  woman  of  the  same  age. 
In  fact  the  two  classes  are  equally  mysterious,  but  the 
advantage  lies  with  the  former,  in  that  the  surprise 
varies  from  day  to  day. 

Under  her  pale  curls  Mrs.  General  Pattle  showed 
a  pair  of  shrewd,  kindly  blue  eyes,  with  heavy  grizzled 
brows  ignored  in  the  bleaching ;  a  spot  of  color  on 
her  high  cheek-bones,  which  indicated  a  Scotch  tinge 
somewhere;  and  a  general  look  of  capability  empha 
sized  by  every  motion.  Evidently  her  taste  had  been 
formed  and  fixed  at  a  far  earlier  period  than  the  aes 
thetic  one  then  ruling  in  London,  for  her  compact 
little  figure  was  clad  in  Dolly  Varden  patterns  and 
hung  with  much  bog-oak  and  agate  decoration.  It 
carried  also  an  atmosphere  of  utter  good  will  and  a 


52  BALLANTYNE 

conviction  that  nobody  could  be  better  dressed;  while 
summers  long  devoted  to  experiments  with  baths  of 
every  nature,  from  Tunbridge  and  Epsom  to  Carlsbad 
inclusive,  gave  her  the  air  of  what  she  called  "  a 
genuine  cosmopolitanism,  me  dear." 

Why  any  Mrs.  General  should  have  sunk  to  lodgers 
was  in  the  beginning  not  plain,  but  was  made  so  as 
soon  as  the  owner  of  the  title  had  determined  for  her 
self  the  quality  of  the  new-comer.  In  any  case  it 
was  no  miscellaneous  crowd  that  ascended  her  stairs 
and  used  her  latch-key  at  will.  Two  floors  only 
were  assigned  to  them,  and  of  these  Marion  had  the 
lower  one,  —  the  upper,  which  she  would  have  chosen, 
being  rented  permanently  to  an  invisible  some  one, 
who  had  thus  far  given  no  sign  of  tenancy. 

"  It 's  a  gentleman,  me  dear,"  Mrs.  Pattle  had 
stated  in  the  beginning.  u  That  I  will  not  conceal, 
but  his  manners  are  such  that  he  could  never  offend, 
and  he  only  comes  and  goes,  as  it  were,  except  now 
and  then,  when  he  bides  a  bit.  You  might  go  a 
month  and  never  hear  him  once,  and  often  it  is  so. 
He  's  English,  and  that  I  did  n't  mean  to  have,  liking 
Americans  the  best  —  oh,  much  the  best,  me  dear, 
for  lodgers.  But  he  's  not  so  set  up  as  many  Eng 
lishmen,  and  so  I  mind  less.  I  'm  Scotch  myself, 
though  brought  up  in  England,  and  so  it 's  natural  I 
should  have  a  quick  eye  for  English  faults.  We  Ve 
enough  of  our  own,  't  is  true,  but  we  Ve  none  like 
theirs.  You  '11  be  quite  free  and  no  spying  upon  you, 
for  I  'm  well  used  to  Americans,  and  they  will  go 


BALLANTYNE  53 

their  own  way,  and  a  good  right  to  it,  I  say,  for  they 
pay,  and  never  a  word,  and  I  'm  in  cold  terrors  for 
fear  I  '11  cheat  them,  maybe,  all  because  of  this  way 
they  have,  that 's  an  obligation  on  all  mankind  to  be 
fair  with  them.  'T  is  not  rational  —  that  I  will  say 
—  not  to  scan  a  bill  for  the  items,  that  an  English 
man  will  go  over  one  by  one,  if  it  took  all  night,  but 
't  is  more  comfortable,  me  dear,  when  there 's  never 
been  need  of  dickering  nor  haggling,  and  never  did 
a  thought  of  that  come  to  me  till  —  I  've  been  a 
terrible  fool  in  my  life,  me  dear.  I  think  I  '11  even 
tell  the  tale  some  day  for  your  warning  and  instruc 
tion,  but  not  yet ;  "  and  Mrs.  General  Pattle,  shak 
ing  hei  bog-oak  chains  and  bracelets  cheerfully,  went 
with  a  martial  step  out  of  the  room. 

Since  then,  absorbed  by  some  country  guests,  she 
had  appeared  but  seldom,  looking  in  for  a  moment 
to  say,  "  And  how  do  you  find  yourself  to-day,  me 
dear  ?  "  and  then  vanishing. 

The  little  maid  who  brought  her  meals  and  served 
her  with  growing  devotion  had  come  from  Devon 
shire,  answered  to  the  name  of  Polly  Veal,  and  knew 
London  only  as  a  tale,  her  dreams  of  bliss  being  a 
walk  in  the  evening  up  King's  Road,  or  a  Sunday 
outing  in  Battersea  Park.  It  was  all  unusual,  even 
when  most  real ;  and  the  absolute  release  from  every 
social  claim,  the  certainty  that  till  she  chose  to  speak 
she  was  lost  in  this  ocean  of  humanity,  so  far  from 
oppressing,  brought  to  Marion  a  certain  exhilaration 
and  exaltation  in  which  she  moved.  Day  after  day 


54  BALLANTYNE 

she  went  over  the  familiar  ground,  reading  in  the 
museum  or  wandering  among  the  marbles,  searching 
out  once  more  all  remains  of  old  London,  and  walk 
ing  as  indefatigably  as  either  Dickens  or  Macaulay, 
those  two  most  opposite  haunters  and  explorers  of 
every  secret  spot  in  London  streets.  Till  the  spell 
had  lessened  she  could  do  no  definite  work,  and  in 
yielding  to  it  there  was  a  certain  compulsion,  as  if 
some  other  will  moved  with  her  own  and  shared  the 
new  sense  of  self-possession.  To-day  she  had  put 
some  biscuit  in  her  pocket  and  leaned  over  the  para 
pet  of  the  bridge,  tossing  a  crumb  now  and  then,  and 
smiling  at  the  struggle  below. 

u  Even  the  ducks  are  immemorial,"  she  thought ; 
"  for  their  ancestors  paddled  toward  gay  King  Charlie 
and  quacked  and  dove,  precisely  as  their  successors 
are  diving  and  quacking  for  me.  It  is  all  a  bit  of 
the  general  solidity,  a  repose  next  door  to  Nirvana, 
to  pass  from  the  eternally  shifting  to  the  eternally 
stable,  and  cease  the  unending  effort  to  resolve  the 
dirty  grays  into  the  original  blacks  and  whites  that 
made  them.  There  is  comfortable,  rational  conser 
vatism,  even  in  the  ducks." 

She  threw  a  sudden  shower  of  crumbs  over  a  placid 
white  one,  looking  with  small,  unwinking  eyes  toward 
the  biscuit  in  her  hand  and  joining  at  once  in  the 
tumultuous  pursuit  of  the  unexpected  wealth.  Now 
and  then  one  rode  serenely,  taking  the  morsel  that 
drifted  in  its  way  with  the  calmness  born  of  certainty 
that  more  was  sure  to  come  ;  but  for  the  most  part 


BALLANTYNE  55 

scramble  was  the  order,  the  strongest  quacking  loud 
satisfaction  at  the  flight  of  the  weakest.  These, 
finding  no  place,  either  swam  away  to  secluded  cor 
ners,  or  gave  themselves  to  that  fury  of  insatiable 
washing  likely  to  overtake  a  duck  at  any  moment 
of  its  day,  and  a  certain  compensation  for  all  sorrows 
known  to  duck  life.  Here  and  there  a  pair  of  red 
legs  erect  in  the  air  showed  that  the  owner  was 
taking  active  measures  to  secure  his  share,  but  for 
the  most  part  the  surface  held  enough,  and  the  many- 
colored  swimmers  paddled  from  point  to  point,  making 
critical  selection  of  the  largest  bits  and  quacking  loud 
disapproval  of  any  similar  attempt  on  the  part  of  their 
brethren. 

"You  are  delightfully  human,"  said  Marion,  un 
consciously  aloud,  coloring  as  some  one  who  had 
paused  for  a  moment  to  watch  the  struggle  smiled, 
and  then,  as  he  saw  her  flush,  lifted  his  hat  courte 
ously  and  walked  on  toward  the  Abbey.  He  was 
tall,  and  slenderly  yet  firmly  built,  with  dark,  serious 
eyes  that,  as  the  smile  faded,  held  a  certain  wistful 
look,  that  lingered  with  Marion  after  he  had  passed  on. 

"  That  was  a  good  face,"  she  thought  :  "  the  face 
of  an  honest  gentleman  with  a  soul  ;  but  that  look 
belongs  to  a  woman,  and  not  a  man.  I  wonder  how 
it  got  there.  He  is  probably  a  poet." 

She  smiled  at  her  own  fancy,  tossed  the  final  bit  to 
the  ducks,  and  after  a  little  lingering  along  the  river 
turned  toward  the  Abbey,  and  soon  was  in  her  favorite 
place  in  the  Poet's  Corner,  where  she  could  hear  the 


56  BALLANTYNE 

music,  yet  not  be  distracted  by  the  obtrusive  monu 
ments  of  the  central  aisle.  Her  neighbor  of  the  bridge 
had  had  the  same  thought,  perhaps.  At  any  rate, 
there  he  sat  near  the  Shakespeare  monument,  whose 
noble  figure  faces  the  world  in  serene  surety  of  its 
place  and  right.  Marion  looked  again  at  the  man's 
face,  trying,  as  was  her  fashion,  to  define  its  meaning. 
Sensitive,  delicate,  yet  strong  it  was,  every  feature 
clear-cut,  and  the  drooping  mustache  not  hiding  the 
firm  lines  of  the  lips,  firm  in  spite  of  the  gentleness 
of  the  mouth.  The  dark  brown  hair  was  closely  cut, 
with  only  an  indication  that  its  natural  tendency  was 
to  wave,  and  the  forehead  rose  broad  and  white  above 
the  slightly  bronzed  cheeks. 

"  A  soldier,  perhaps,"  she  thought.  "  He  looks  as 
if  he  had  come  from  some  campaign,  and  yet  there  is 
the  look  of  a  student,  too." 

Speculation  ended  here,  for  the  anthem  had  begun, 
and  she  leaned  her  head  against  the  screen  as  the  clear 
notes  rose  higher  and  higher,  seeming  at  last  part  of 
the  many-colored  light  of  the  glorious  windows,  which 
darkened  slowly  till  the  aisles  were  lost  in  shadow  and 
the  candles  burned  dim.  It  was  so  dark  that,  as  she 
roused  to  a  consciousness  of  it,  it  puzzled  her,  since 
it  was  still  early  and  the  sky  had  been  only  moderately 
clouded  when  she  entered.  When  the  last  notes  of 
the  organ  died  away,  she  still  lingered.  The  people 
were  an  extraordinary  length  of  time  in  getting  out, 
and  presently  one  of  the  old  vergers,  who  knew  her 
face,  came  to  her  and  said  : 


BALLANTYNE  57 

u  Can  I  'elp  you,  miss  ?  Did  you  border  a  cab  to 
wait,  maybe  ?  The  fog  's  uncommon  thick." 

Marion  hastily  made  her  way  to  the  south  door, 
from  which  the  last  stragglers  were  moving,  and 
uttered  an  exclamation  of  dismay  as  she  saw  the 
character  of  the  fog,  a  dense,  dirty  yellow  masking 
everything,  and  thickening  every  moment. 

"  I  'm  hafraid  you'll  'ave  trouble,  miss,"  the  verger 
said.  "  I  '11  see  if  there  's  a  cab  houtside." 

He  vanished  in  the  fog,  returning  speedily  with  a 
shake  of  the  head. 

"They're  hall  taken,  miss,  but  I'm  doubting  if 
they  '11  get  anywhere.  Hit 's  lucky  hit 's  Sunday,  and 
no  traffic,  for  maybe  you  can  make  out  to  walk." 

"  Allow  me  to  look  a  little  farther,"  a  voice  said ; 
and  the  stranger,  who  had  been  standing  just  behind 
them,  came  forward.  "There  are  probably  plenty  up 
in  the  Square,  and  I  will  send  one  down  if  you  will 
wait." 

"Thanks,"  Marion  said  after  an  instant's  hesita 
tion.  "  If  you  are  really  going  that  way,  and  it  will 
not  trouble  you." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  said,  and  disappeared  in  the 
fog.  The  old  verger  closed  the  doors. 

"  I  '11  be  on  the  lookout,"  he  said  ;  and  Marion  fol 
lowed  him  as  he  slowly  put  out  the  candles,  leaving 
one  or  two,  which  made  only  faint  yellow  spots 
against  the  shadow.  She  sat  down  at  last,  the  old 
man  going  at  intervals  to  the  door,  and  presently  the 
stranger  appeared  again. 


58  BALLANTYNE 

"  I  'm  awfully  sorry,"  he  said  ;  "  but  the  fog  is  really 
most  uncommon,  and  the  people  coming  out  of  St. 
Martin's  seem  to  have  taken  every  cab." 

"  I  think  I  can  walk,"  Marion  said,  hastily.  "  It  is 
only  Chelsea,  and  there  is  nothing  to  do  but  go  straight 
on." 

"  I  am  going  to  Chelsea,  too,"  he  said,  "  and  if  you 
will  allow  me,  can  help  you,  perhaps." 

u  You  'd  better  not  try  it  halone,"  the  old  verger 
said,  his  look  of  suspicion  having  changed  to  approval. 
"  There  's  never  hany  knowing  what  turn  such  a  fog 
will  take,  hand  a  man  's  'andy  when  there  's  trouble." 

Marion  went  out  silently,  a  little  disturbed,  but  with 
no  want  of  confidence  in  her  guide. 

"  It 's  a  little  too  late  for  this  sort  of  thing,"  he 
said,  "but  it  is  a  part  of  the  London  experience. 
It  will  all  be  tradition  by  the  end  of  the  twentieth 
century,  and  then  we  shall  be  immensely  ashamed  of 
ourselves  for  having  submitted  to  it  so  long.  We 
shall  be  certain  of  a  cab  at  Victoria,"  he  added,  as  they 
gave  themselves  to  the  slow  progress  forward ;  but 
when  Victoria  was  reached,  the  policeman  at  the  gate 
shook  his  head. 

"  There 's  not  a  cab  to  be  'ad  for  love  nor  for 
money,"  he  said,  "  for  the  hexpress  his  just  in,  hand 
hevery  one  taken." 

"  We  must  go  right  on,  then,"  Marion  said,  reso 
lutely.  u  It  is  not  so  bad  as  it  seems,  if  only  it  will 
not  thicken  any  deeper." 

"  Fortunately,  I  have  had    this  to  do   more    than 


BALLANTYNE  59 

once,"  her  guide  replied.  "  I  know  all  the  turns. 
Where  am  I  to  take  you  ?  " 

"To  Cheyne  Walk,"  Marion  said.  "I  am  so 
sorry,  since  it  is  so  far." 

"That  is  my  own  goal,"  he  said  as  they  crept  on  ; 
and  then  he  talked  of  Chelsea  and  the  odd  life  to  be 
found  there,  keeping  always  close  to  wall  or  railing  as 
the  fog  thickened,  more  and  more  pungent  with  smoke 
and  soot  caught  in  its  meshes. 

Marion's  eyes  smarted  and  her  throat  burned  as  she 
walked  on,  each  step  less  and  less  assured,  for  even 
the  lamp-posts  had  lost  their  outline,  and  a  yard  ahead 
nothing  was  discernible.  It  seemed  hours  before  the 
end  of  King's  Road  was  reached,  and  the  stranger 
said  : 

"  Do  you  turn  to  the  right  or  the  left  ?  " 

"  To  the  right,"  Marion  answered.  "  It  is  only  a 
few  houses  down  ;  but  you  will  never  be  able  to  see 
the  numbers.  It  is  Mrs.  General  Pattle's." 

"  Ah  !  "  he  said,  "  that  is  mine  also.  We  are  neigh 
bors.  I  am  the  other  lodger." 

Marion  felt  no  surprise.  It  was  all  part  of  the  gen 
eral  mystery  in  which  she  moved.  The  stranger  was 
feeling  his  way  carefully  along  the  railings,  and  once 
ran  up  some  steps  and  struck  a  match  or  two  as  he 
searched  for  the  number. 

"  Three  doors  more,"  he  said  as  he  returned  ;  and 
Marion  followed,  a  long  breath  of  relief  coming  in 
voluntarily  as  the  door  opened  at  last  and  she  found 
herself  in  her  own  place. 


60  BALLANTYNE 

u  Thank  you  so  very  much  !  "  she  said.  "  I  do 
not  know  what  I  could  have  done  without  you,"  — 
and  she  passed  on  to  her  own  rooms.  The  fire 
burned  brightly.  Polly  stood  waiting,  wringing  her 
hands  with  anxiety,  and  melting  into  tears  as  she  saw 
Marion's  tired  face  ;  and  Mrs.  Pattle  herself  appeared, 
to  testify  to  her  own  alarm  and  her  satisfaction  at  the 
ending  of  the  affair. 

ct  The  lodger  !  "  she  cried,  as  Marion  explained 
how  she  had  come.  tl  And  you  not  knowing  his 
name  even,  nor  he  yours  any  more,  —  unless,  maybe, 
he  told  you." 

"  No,"  Marion  said,  smiling.  "  Everything  but 
the  fog  was  forgotten." 

"  That 's  quite  natural  and  proper,  me  dear,"  Mrs. 
Pattle  said,  "  after  all  that  you  'd  gone  through  ;  but 
it 's  no  harm  your  knowing,  though  you  could  live 
here  a  lifetime,  maybe,  and  never  meet  him.  It  's 
not  so  bad  a  name  at  all,  since  there  's  a  Scotch  begin 
ning  somewhere,  though  it 's  English  he  is  now,  and 
it 's  short  and  easy  to  speak.  Ballantyne  it  is,  with 
a  ring  of  the  Covenanters  in  it ;  and  where  he  comes 
from,  that  I  don't  know,  though  he  'd  the  finest  of 
references,  that  I  would  never  read,  more 'n  the 
names,  since  his  face  tells  the  only  tale  I  'm  wanting, 
and  his  name  's  a  true  one,  —  John  Ballantyne." 


Chapter  Fifth 


I 


was  ample  time  for  Marion  to  put 
together  vague  memories  aroused  by  the 
name,  suddenly  spoken  and  unheard 
since  the  day  in  which  she  had  listened 
to  Friend  Barstow's  droning  voice  as  he  told  of  the 
shipwreck,  and  the  faces  of  the  children  seemed  to 
start  out  before  her:  John  Ballantyne.  Over  and 
over  the  name  said  itself,  yet  it  must  be  pure  coinci 
dence,  for  long  ago  the  surviving  child  had  probably 
returned  to  his  own  place.  But  possibilities  would 
come  uppermost  in  the  interminable  two  days  in 
which  fog  ruled,  breaking  for  a  moment  to  settle 
again,  dirtier,  yellower,  more  insufferable  every  hour, 
invading  every  inch  of  space,  and  pervading  alike 
food,  drink,  and  breath. 

Most  of  all  in  her  wanderings  came  the  question 
why  no  word  of  them  had  ever  been  spoken  by  her 
father.  Neither  through  him  nor  in  any  other  fashion 
was  there  the  slightest  clue  to  the  family  or  its  his 
tory.  Her  impulse  had  been  to  ask,  but  now  she 
rejected  it.  Why  make  an  inquiry  that  might  be 
disagreeable  to  him  and  disillusioning  to  herself? 
Outwardly  everything,  in  voice,  dress,  and  manner, 


62  BALLANTYNE 

indicated  the  type  of  Englishmen  best  known  and 
best  liked.  If  an  American,  —  and  as  she  thought, 
she  added  at  once,  "  Impossible,"  —  he  was  outside 
any  plan  the  year  had  for  her.  Till  that  ended  she 
would  invite  no  possible  complication  ;  and  she  put 
away  resolutely  the  persistent  question  that  with  every 
recurrence  of  the  name  refused  to  be  put  down. 

To  hold  to  such  resolution  would  seem  to  be  easy. 
The  double  floors  and  thick  walls  of  the  old  house 
deadened  all  sounds  save  now  and  then  a  faint  echo 
of  Mrs.  Pattle's  high-pitched  voice  in  some  Scotch 
ballad,  a  voice  that  seemed  an  only  slightly  humanized 
bagpipe,  and  that  wailed  at  stray  intervals  through 
strange  chants  that  may  have  fired  the  souls  of  her 
Gaelic  ancestors,  but  had  rightful  place  to-day  only 
on  moor  or  heather.  From  above  no  sound  came, 
and  as  a  day  or  two  went  on  she  dismissed  further 
thought  of  the  disturbing  name  and  busied  herself 
absorbedly  with  her  clay. 

"  The  fog  was  worse  than  in  all  the  winter,  me 
dear,"  Mrs.  Pattle  said  a  few  evenings  later,  coming 
in  with  a  manner  that  indicated  something  in  reserve, 
to  which  fog  was  merely  the  preliminary.  "A 
woman  must  e'en  give  way  to  it,  but  a  man  's  no  that 
way,  and  Mr.  Ballantyne  went  out  and  off  as  if  it 
were  but  clear  sunshine.  He  '11  not  be  up,  I  'm 
thinking,  before  January,  maybe.  It 's  not  lonely 
you  're  ever  getting,  is  it,  Miss  Lacy  ?  " 

"Not  yet,"  Marion  made  answer  abstractedly, 
for  there  was  something  quite  wrong  with  the  eye- 


BALLANTYNE  63 

brow  of  her  figure,  which  appeared  to  bulge 
suddenly. 

u  I  could  wish  you  'd  said  a  different  word,"  Mrs. 
Pattle  continued,  u  for  here  's  one  that  comes  all  on 
account  of  being  certain  you  're  lonely.  She  does  n't 
bide  for  fog  or  aught  else,  though  I  said  to  her  plain, 
you  saw  no  one,  being  in  mourning.  'T  is  an  old 
acquaintance  of  my  husband  the  general's,  though 
indeed  I  would  not  ask  on  such  a  ground,  since  she 
has  a  name  of  her  own,  and  a  good  one.  I  'm  doubt 
ing  you've  ever  heard  it.  She  's  Miss  Barbara  Ryde, 
and  indeed  I  think  she  's  coming  up  whether  or  no." 

"  And  indeed  I  am,"  said  a  calm  but  determined 
voice  from  the  doorway  ;  and  Marion,  astonished,  but 
wishing  to  spare  Mrs.  Pattle's  feelings,  turned  and 
faced  the  new  arrival,  who  entered  as  if  accustomed 
to  have  place  made  for  her,  and  advanced  with  a  face 
as  calm  as  her  voice. 

"  Call  me  impertinent  if  you  like,"  she  said;  "  I  see 
it  in  your  eye,  and  you  may  as  well  say  it.  But  I  am 
interested.  That  is  my  excuse.  I  am  interested  in 
a  good  many  Americans,  and,  do  you  know,  they 
return  it !  I  wish  to  talk  with  you.  May  I  have 
the  opportunity  ?  " 

"  Apparently,  yes,"  said  Marion,  in  whom  indigna 
tion  still  struggled  with  amusement,  and  who  offered 
a  chair  instinctively  rather  than  willingly.  Miss 
Ryde's  excellent  figure  was  clad  in  what  appeared  to 
be  a  gray  poplin  bag,  guiltless  of  drapery,  save  a  very 
abbreviated  overskirt,  which  as  she  moved  forward 


64  BALLANTYNE 

gave  indication  that  the  divided  skirt  had  been 
adopted.  Her  gray  hair,  smooth  as  satin,  was  brushed 
behind  her  ears,  and  twisted  into  as  uncompromising 
a  knot  as  ever  adorned  a  New  England  woman  of 
faculty.  Her  cheeks  were  pink  as  a  baby's,  and  her 
brown  eyes,  which  had  little  yellow  spots  here  and 
there,  were  clear  and  steady  in  look,  with  an  occa 
sional  twinkle  which  testified  to  a  consciousness  of 
other  people's  peculiarities,  however  they  might  dwell 
upon  her  own. 

u  I  never  lose  an  opportunity  to  get  a  new  idea, 
or  to  make  an  interesting  acquaintance,"  she  said, 
after  a  little  silence,  in  which  she  looked  straight 
into  Marion's  eyes  and  nodded  approvingly.  "The 
difficulty  is  there  is  so  seldom  opportunity  for  either. 
Society  seems  to  be  trying  to  run  itself  into  one 
mould,  and  I  have  to  admit  it  succeeds  admirably. 
I  go  about  searching  for  the  real  under  all  this 
veneer,  and  it  is  extraordinary  how  well  it  has  been 
tucked  away.  To  be  sure,  definitions  of  the  word 
vary.  You  look  real.  How  much  so  are  you  now, 
actually  ?  " 

u  That  would  be  very  difficult  to  state,"  said 
Marion  after  a  moment,  in  which  she  met  Miss 
Ryde's  twinkling"  eyes.  "  Do  you  think  it  worth 
while  to  try  at  present  ?  " 

u  Perhaps  not,  though  really  you  might  as  well. 
You  can't  evade  me.  I  shall  know  for  myself 
whether  you  tell  me  or  not,"  said  her  visitor,  after 
another  pause  of  scrutiny.  "  I  am  a  more  respon- 


BALLANTYNE  65 

sible  person  than  I  seem.  I  have  an  old  house  in 
Cheyne  Walk,  just  below  here,  that  I  am  certain  you 
would  like  to  see,  and  that  I  shall  be  delighted  to 
have  you.  I  am  at  home  Sunday  evenings,  and  you 
can  come  then  if  you  like.  On  other  evenings  I  am 
never  at  home,  for  I  go  to  clubs.  Clubs  are  my 
chief  interest,  —  clubs  and  people ;  but  the  two  are 
synonymous.  I  have  heard  myself  called  the  Queen 
of  Clubs.  I  am  going  to  one  now.  Would  you 
like  to  come,  too  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Marion,  who  felt  as  if  under  a  spell, 
and  who  rose  now  mechanically  to  get  her  hat,  while 
Mrs.  Pattle,  who  in  early  stages  of  the  interview 
had  wrung  her  hands  in  the  background,  sunk  into  a 
chair  and  gazed  relieved  yet  reproachful  at  Miss  Ryde. 

"  There,  there,"  said  the  latter ;  "  you  see  that  no 
harm  is  done.  I  told  you  so  —  and  your  lodger  will 
be  the  better  off  for  knowing  me." 

"  That 's  perfectly  true,"  said  Mrs.  Pattle.  "  But 
I  for  one  think  there  's  no  harm  in  sticking  to  a  little 
form;  and  if  you  'd  waited  a  bit,  it  would  have  been 
the  same  thing  in  the  end,  and  more  credit  to  you 
and  to  me,  and  not  as  if  we  were  wild  savages,  which, 
to  be  sure,  the  English  were  in  the  beginning,  and  it 's 
not  rightly  out  of  them  yet." 

"  And  long  may  it  be  before  it  is,"  returned  Miss 
Ryde,  undaunted  ;  "  since  it 's  that  that  's  the  one 
grain  of  salt  in  a  generation  given  to  lying  and  truck 
ling  and  meanness  such  as  old  days  never  knew.  It 
is  because  I  will  be  a  living  protest  that  I  waste  no 

5 


66  BALLANTYNE 

time  in  preliminaries;  and  your  lodger  ought  to  be 
thankful  that  it  is  so,  and  understand  her  privileges, 
as  she  undoubtedly  will  before  I  am  through  with 
her.  Not  that  I  am  meaning  to  suck  my  orange 
and  toss  the  skin  away  when  I  am  done,"  she  added 
to  Marion,  who  had  re-entered  in  time  to  hear  her 
last  words.  "  Did  you  ever  have  an  interior  flash 
and  know  what  things  meant  ?  I  had  one  as  I  came 
up  the  stairs,  and  another  the  first  time  I  looked  at 
you,  and  made  up  my  mind  it  was  not  for  nothing. 
Queer  lights  come  to  me  on  people  and  things  as  I 
go  searching,  and  here  and  there  finding  the  real, 
though  mostly  the  sham  comes  uppermost.  To-day 
I  believe  it  the  real.  And  now  will  you  come  to 
the  Club?" 

Miss  Ryde  arose,  tied  on  her  bonnet  firmly, 
arranged  a  small  gray  Shetland  shawl  over  her  ears, 
buttoned  her  cloak,  grasped  her  umbrella  by  the 
middle,  and  went  with  a  firm  step  down  the  stairs 
and  into  the  street.  A  mild  drizzle  had  followed  the 
light  fog  of  the  morning,  but  she  did  not  put  up  her 
umbrella,  and  walked  on  as  if  enjoying  it. 

"  The  only  drawback  to  life  is  my  ears,"  she  said, 
presently.  "  You  ieed  n't  try  to  talk,  for  I  can't 
hear  at  present ;  but  that  is  not  my  fault  —  it  belongs 
to  the  generations  before  me.  They  've  all  gone 
deaf  at  sixty,  and  as  I  am  nearing  fifty  I  watch  never 
to  be  damp  about  the  ears,  and  wear  this  Shetland, 
light  but  efficient,  you  see,  summer  and  winter.  Do 
you  know  where  you  are  going  ?  " 


BALLANTYNE  67 

"  Hardly,"  said  Marion,  more  and  more  bewil 
dered.  "  It  is  not  a  chapel  of  any  sftrt  ?  " 

"That  is  impossible,"  returned  Miss  Ryde,  with 
scorn.  "  I  wish  either  church  or  chapel  had  the 
thing  I  '11  show  you  to-night  ;  but  none  have,  save 
here  and  there  where  a  man  has  light  in  his  mind 
and  not  a  patent  extinguisher.  It 's  a  Radical  Club, 
and  here  we  are." 

"  Then  you  are  a  Socialist  !  " 

"  Not  I,"  said  Miss  Ryde,  who  had  pushed  back 

her  shawl.     "  I   watch  what   they   are  doing, and 

they  do  some  things  well ;  that  is  all." 

They  had  been  walking  swiftly  up  King's  Road  ; 
and  now  Miss  Ryde  turned  suddenly,  entered  a  door 
in  an  old-fashioned  building,  and  went  through  a 
narrow  passage  in  which  several  men  were  standing, 
who  nodded  silently.  One  of  them  opened  the 
door  into  a  large,  low-ceiled  room  filled  with  people, 
chiefly  men,  with  a  sprinkling  of  women  and  chil 
dren  ;  a  platform  at  one  end  holding  a  table,  and 
some  chairs  and  a  small  piano,  some  final  chords  on 
which  were  just  being  struck  by  a  girl  who  slipped 
away  from  it  quietly  and  took  a  vacant  place  in  the 
front  row. 

"  Look  at  her  well,"  said  Miss  Ryde,  as  she  dis 
encumbered  herself  of  the  shawl  and  sat  down,  look 
ing  very  much  at  ease  and  nodding  here  and  there. 
"  Look  at  her  well.  You  '11  not  see  many  faces  like 
that.  Never  mind  her  gown.  Her  father  's  a  poet 
and  her  mother  an  aesthete,  and  her  gowns  are  the 


68  BALLANTYNE 

joint  result   of  the  madness  of  all  three.      It 's  her 
face  I  see,  not ;  her  gown." 

Marion's  eyes  were  already  fixed  upon  it,  for  the 
girl  had  turned  to  speak  to  some  one  behind  her.  It 
was  an  exquisite  face,  delicate  and  sensitive  in  every 
line,  the  soft,  waving  hair  making  an  aureole  about  it, 
and  the  deep,  dark  eyes  holding  the  direct,  child-like 
look  of  Marion's  own. 

"  There  was  never  one  like  her,"  said  Miss  Ryde. 
"  Now  listen,  and  you  '11  hear  things  that  are  newer 
to  you  than  to  me ;  things  you  've  never  heard,  I  '11 
be  bound." 

The  speaker  of  the  evening  had  come  forward  :  a 
short,  dark,  eager-looking  man,  greeted  with  a  storm 
of  applause,  which  he  received  with  a  little  impa 
tience,  as  if  it  were  a  distinct  waste  of  time,  and 
checked  suddenly  with  a  deep  "  Let  us  come  to 
business." 

There  was  another  round  before  he  could  speak 
again,  and  a  voice  from  the  background  cried  out, 
"  This  is  our  business,  John  !  Now,  you  can  attend 
to  yours,  if  you  like." 

"  That  is  John  Burns,"  said  Miss  Ryde  in  a  whis 
per,  and  then  relapsed  into  contented  silence,  as  his 
speech  began.  Marion  remembered  now  that  three 
years  before  he  had  been  pointed  out  to  her  in  Hyde 
Park  as  the  man  who  could  make  twenty  thousand 
people  hear;  and  she  could  well  believe  it,  since  the 
voice  was  a  deep  bass,  subdued  now  to  the  require 
ments  of  the  room,  but  of  a  Vinging  quality  that 


BALLANTYNE  69 

seemed  to  demand  and  imply  great  spaces.  The 
Scotch  burr  was  on  his  tongue,  though  his  English 
was  perfect,  and  he  spoke  with  the  entire  ease  and 
freedom  of  the  Scotchman,  who  in  this  respect  has 
close  kinship  with  the  American,  the  "  added  drop  of 
nervous  fluid  "  being  their  possession  no  less  than 
ours.  He  was  an  agitator.  That  she  knew,  but 
save  for  the  word  itself  there  was  no  hint  of  revolt  or 
upheaval  in  this  evening's  work,  and  she  listened,  at 
first  critically  and  coldly,  then  fascinated  and  absorbed. 

"  Agitate,  organize,  educate."  This  was  the  re 
frain  ;  and  to-night  the  third  word  led,  and  she  found 
that  it  was  the  final  lecture  on  the  three  needs  of  the 
present.  He  showed  men  their  ignorance.  He  de 
manded  what  right  they  had  to  expect  betterment  till 
they  had  testified  willingness  to  learn,  and  then  he  told 
them  what  and  how  they  must  learn. 

"  You  are  on  the  way,"  he  said.  "  There  are 
clearer  heads  listening  to  me  to-night,  —  there  are 
clearer  heads  among  you  workers,  than  you  '11  find  in 
the  House  of  Lords.  Go  on  with  the  work  you  have 
begun.  Make  yourselves  fit  for  the  life  that  must 
come,  but  that  won't  and  can't  come  till  you  are  fit. 
Revolt  is  useless.  Naught  can  help  you  but  your 
selves.  Study,  men,  and  women  as  well,  —  study. 
Here  is  the  chance.  Learn  what  there  is  to  do  be 
fore  you  seek  to  do  it,  and  be  sure  that  to  your  faith 
you  add  knowledge,  and  don't  howl  for  things  that 
you  have  not  begun  to  comprehend.  These  sound 
like  Conservative  words,  but  call  them  what  you  like, 


yo  BALLANTYNE 

they  are  words  of  truth.  I  know  what  I  am  talking 
about;  and  I  say  to  you  and  to  every  Radical  Club 
in  London  the  same  word  :  the  faith  that  has  not 
knowledge  for  its  foundation  means  destruction  for 
its  holders.  Educate,  educate,  educate  !  —  and  God 
speed  the  time  when  every  soul  of  you  will  know  not 
only  his  need  and  his  right,  but  why  he  needs  it  and 
why  it  is  his  right !  " 

The  running  fire  of  u  Hear,  hear !  "  changed  to 
prolonged  applause  as  he  sat  down.  Half  a  dozen 
were  on  their  feet  at  once,  and  for  the  next  half-hour 
there  was  an  eager  discussion  as  to  methods,  each 
man  practically  a  reporter  of  the  work  already  going 
on,  since  incidental  mention  came  in  of  classes  at 
many  points. 

"Ten  minutes  more,"  the  chairman  said,  and 
Marion  turned  suddenly  as  the  final  speaker  rose  to 
describe  the  work  in  a  certain  class  in  political 
science,  the  teacher  of  which  had  kept  silence,  though 
the  result  seemed  admirable  beyond  anything  yet  ac 
complished.  It  was  the  voice  of  the  stranger  who 
had  guided  her  home  in  the  fog,  raised  now,  but  quiet 
still ;  a  full  rich  voice,  English  in  every  accent,  yet 
smooth  and  flowing,  with  none  of  the  hitches  charac 
teristic  of  English  public  speaking.  Miss  Ryde  looked 
round,  well  pleased. 

"  That 's  young  Ballantyne,"  she  said  in  a  low 
tone.  "  He  's  a  Fabian,  or  partly  so,  anyway.  He  '11 
be  in  Parliament  soon,  and  the  sooner  the  better.  If 
one  could  ever  get  at  him  for  a  bit  of  talk,  —  but  he 


BALLANTYNE  71 

is  busy  here  and  busy  there,  and  never  to  be  had 
when  one  wants  him.  It  was  he  first  told  me  what 
these  Clubs  were  like.  Now  it 's  over  and  we  're  to 
go,  unless  you  like  to  watch  them  out  or  speak  to 
some  of  them." 

Miss  Ryde  had  risen  and  arranged  her  head  accord 
ing  to  her  theories,  but  paused  now  as  one  and  an 
other  came  up  ;  and  Marion  looked  at  the  faces,  all 
of  them  of  working-men,  but  of  an  order  with  which 
she  was  not  familiar,  since  they  were  as  evidently 
thinking  men,  with  lines  deep  graven  by  long  ponder 
ing  over  many  problems.  Two  or  three  of  them 
shook  hands  heartily  ;  and  the  girl  who  had  played, 
and  who  had  come  up  to  Miss  Ryde,  and  stood  now 
watching  Marion's  face,  smiled  as  she  met  her  puz 
zled  look,  and  said  : 

"You  must  come  again  and  find  out  what  it  all 
means.  Perhaps  you  would  help  us  in  the  teaching, 
if  you  are  living  in  Chelsea." 

"  If  there  is  anything  I  can  teach,"  Marion  said, 
heartily.  "  But  who  needs  it  ?  They  have  taught 
me  some  things  already  that  I  did  not  know." 

"  I  will  come  and  see  you  and  tell  you  all  about 
it,"  the  girl  said;  "  or  Miss  Ryde  can.  I  see  you 
are  with  her." 

"  And  she  will  be  again,  Eleanor,  my  dear,"  said 
Miss  Ryde,  with  a  nod.  "  It 's  true  I  only  called 
on  her  at  seven,  and  the  acquaintance  is  a  short  one, 
but  it  is  bound  to  be  longer,  and  you  will  help.  This 
is  Eleanor  Norris,  Miss  Lacy,  and  you  will  have  no 


72  BALLANTYNE 

better  guide  to  some  of  the  things  you  are  to  know. 
If  you  choose  to  come  and  see  me,  you  will  see  her, 
too,  for  she  comes  and  goes  as  she  pleases,  and  Jane 
bears  with  her  better  than  with  most." 

u  Jane  is  a  very  much  more  conservative  and  repu 
table  person  than  Miss  Ryde  herself,  as  you  will  soon 
discover,"  said  Miss  Norris  with  a  smile,  her  eyes 
still  studying  Marion's  face;  and  Miss  Ryde  nodded 
gravely  as  if  the  fact  were  incontrovertible. 

"  If  you  want  to  know  where  you  have  been,"  she 
went  on,  as  they  made  their  way  into  the  street, 
"  that  is  the  Eleusis  Club,  —  a  nonsensical  name  to 
my  thinking,  but  they  seem  to  like  it.  And  now  I  '11 
see  you  home,  since  there  was  no  arrangement  for 
your  maid's  coming,  though  indeed  it 's  as  safe  here 
as  in  your  own  rooms.  There 's  another  Club  in 
Battersea  that  I  go  to  to-morrow,  and,  if  you  like,  we 
will  try  it  together.  And  will  you  come  to  me  Sun 
day,  —  not  for  half  an  hour,  but  to  stay  the  evening, 
and  to  see  how  you  like  it  ?  You  may  not  like  me, 
but  you  will  like  my  house.  Me  you  are  not  obliged 
to  like  under  any  circumstances." 

Miss  Ryde  stopped  under  a  street  lamp  and  nodded 
emphatically  as  she  looked  into  Marion's  face. 

"  Do  you  know  why  I  came  this  evening  ?  "  she 
said.  "  I  have  no  time  for  visits  and  ceremonies, 
and  I  have  naught  to  do  longer  with  what  is  called 
society.  But  I  saw  you  a  week  ago,  sitting  there  by 
the  old  Carlyle,  and  the  way  you  looked  at  him  made 
me  watch  you ;  and  when  I  saw  you  go  into  Mrs. 


BALLANTYNE  73 

Pattle's,  I  knew,  of  course,  you  were  American,  and  I 
said  I  would  know  you  if  you  did  n't  contradict  your 
face.  I  '11  come  to  you  to-morrow  evening  at  seven, 
and  you  shall  see  what  you  think  of  Battersea,  unless 
indeed  you  have  had  enough." 

"  I  will  go  with  pleasure,"  Marion  said,  entirely 
reconciled  to  her  abrupt  acquaintance,  and  looking 
after  her  with  interest  as  she  strode  away  from  the 
door  which  had  just  opened. 

"Come  in  here  a  minute  or  two,  me  dear,"  said 
Mrs.  Pattle,  emerging  from  her  own  rooms  as  Marion 
entered.  "  I  've  been  watching  to  speak  with  you  ; 
for  though  I  said  to  myself  that  you  were  sensible 
enough  to  see  what  Miss  Ryde  was  like,  there  *s  no 
telling  what  she  '11  do.  She 's  always  watching  the 
Americans  I  have  here,  but  there  's  never  one  before 
she  gave  the  entry  to  her  house.  With  all  her  ways 
she  's  a  lady  born  and  bred,  and  she  holds  to  the  old 
for  all  she  runs  after  the  new.  You  '11  see  that  for 
yourself.  But  there 's  naught  on  the  Lord's  earth 
that  goes  its  way  never  caring  like  your  English 
woman  that  has  money,  and  blood  enough  to  know 
what  her  place  is  worth ;  and  she  has  both.  I  '11  tell 
you  a  bit  about  her." 

Marion  had  settled  into  a  chair,  and  Mrs.  Pattle 
crossed  her  hands  and  looked  at  her  with  delighted 
approval. 

"  Her  sense  is  wonderful,  and  her  ways  are  many 
and  past  finding  out,  —  and  if  that  is  Scripture,  which 
I  do  not  feel  certain,  may  the  Lord  forgive  me !  " 


74  BALLANTYNE 

Mrs.  Pattle  said  devoutly.  "  Miss  Ryde's  father  was 
a  city  man,  it  is  true,  but  he  married  Sir  Archibald 
Hetherington's  daughter,  the  only  one,  and  the  old 
place'  in  Devonshire,  theirs  since  the  day  of  that  rob 
ber  and  spoiler  of  men,  William  the  Norman  himself. 
Mr.  Thomas  Ryde  was  a  merchant,  't  is  true,  but 
of  good  stock,  since  the  house  is  well  nigh  as  old 
as  London  itself;  but  nobody  knows  why  she  fell  in 
love,  or  how  they  settled  upon  it.  'T  was  his  money 
brought  up  the  old  place,  that  the  last  Hetherington 
had  run  into  the  ground,  and  the  Jews  with  their 
hands  deep  in  every  Hetherington  pocket ;  and  't  was 
he  bought  the  old  house  here  in  Chelsea  where  Miss 
Ryde  was  born.  'T  was  a  male  heir  must  have  the 
Devonshire  property,  and  so  she  was  out,  for  never  a 
son  had  come  to  them,  and  her  mother  dead  in  her 
babyhood.  So  she  lived  on  with  her  father,  a  man 
well  on  in  years  when  he  married,  —  quite  fifty,  I  am 
told,  and  dying  at  eighty,  —  that  collected  everything 
till  the  house  was  a  museum,  as  you  '11  see,  me  dear, 
and  she  the  despair  of  Jane  her  maid  and  all  the  old 
servants,  because  she  is  always  having  strange  people. 
Not  that  you  're  strange,"  Mrs.  Pattle  hastened  to 
add ;  "  for  indeed  it  is  plain  you  've  known  the  best 
as  well  as  she.  But  there  's  never  telling  what  she  '11 
do,  and  I  was  fearful  this  evening  you  'd  not  see 
't  was  her  way  of  paying  a  visit,  and  maybe  feel  I 
could  have  kept  her  out.  The  angel  with  the  flaming 
sword  could  not  keep  her  out  if  once  she  settled  to 
come  in ;  but  for  all  that  she  's  Miss  Barbara  Hether- 


BALLANTYN  E 75 

ington  Ryde,  and  one  must  bear  with  her.  She  knew 
my  husband  the  general  well,  and  has  much  kind 
ness  for  me,  so  that  I  must  e'en  let  her  go  her  own 
way ;  and  I  'm  glad  you  're  not  offended,  me  dear, 
for  I  would  not  have  you  so,  though  indeed  you  're 
too  sensible,  I  'm  certain,  and  you  'd  see  she  was  not 
daft  a  bit,  but  only  used  to  her  way,  and  like  all  the 
English,  with  no  mind  to  see  that  another  might  have 
their  own  as  well.  And  I  '11  go  now,  and  not  go  on, 
me  dear,  for  you  're  tired  and  must  rest ;  and  good 
night  to  you." 


Chapter    Sixth 


"  -W  "W"  "THAT  are  you  in  England  for  ?  What 
^L  ^^  /  are  so  many  Americans  over  here 
^y  ^  for?"  said  Miss  Ryde  abruptly,  as 
she  sat  waiting  the  next  evening, 
while  Marion  made  ready  for  the  trip  to  the  unknown 
regions  of  Battersea.  She  was  in  the  same  uniform 
as  on  the  preceding  evening,  but  had  added  to  her 
generally  determined  aspect  an  air  of  calm  proprie 
torship,  which  ignored  any  fact  of  slight  foundation 
for  its  existence,  and  seemed  prepared  to  encompass 
hereafter  every  going  out  and  coming  in. 

"  You  think  I  'm  curious,  but  I  am  not !  "  pur 
sued  Miss  Ryde,  after  a  pause  in  which  Marion 
looked  at  her  silently  for  a  moment.  "  I  am  quite 
indifferent  to  the  world  at  large,  but  if  I  am  to  know 
any  one,  while  I  take  them  precisely  where  I  find 
them,  I  like  also  to  know  the  purpose  of  the  time  in 
which  I  find  them  and  what  they  are  after.  I  wish 
to  ask,  also,  how  Auberon  Forster's  portrait  is  in  that 
row  on  your  chimney-piece  ?  " 

"Naturally  because  he  was  one  of  my  father's 
best  friends,"  said  Marion. 

"  Ha !  "   said    Miss    Ryde.     "  That  accounts   for 


BALLANTYNE  77 

it.  Now  I  see  what  has  puzzled  me.  I  saw  you 
as  a  child,  —  fourteen  or  thereabouts,  —  at  his  house  ; 
the  only  time  that  I  was  ever  there.  I  abominate 
lawyers,  and  I  have  no  taste  for  Assyrian  dynasties, 
and  so  naturally  avoided  him.  Then  you  know 
London  ?  " 

"Perfectly    till    the    last    three    years,"    Marion 

replied. 

"  Ha !  "    said     Miss    Ryde    again,    and    remained 
silent  till  they  had  crossed  the  bridge. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  that  an  English  girl  of  your 
age  and  position  could  n't  do  what  you  are  doing  now," 
she  said,  suddenly  stopping  short  and  facing  Marion. 
"Americans  do  much  as  they  please,  and  they  are 
right.  You  have  fallen  into  good  hands,  and  no 
matter  what  you  may  think,  you  are  in  better  when 
you  fall  into  mine.  I  shall  not  interfere.  You  are 
only  to  understand  that  I  mean  to  have  some  eye  to 
you,  and  that  I  wish  you  to  come  to  my  house, 
where  you  will  undoubtedly  meet  some  you  have 
known  and  more  you  will  like  to  know.  Will  you 
come  ?  I  do  not  ask  twice,  and  I  never  ask  any  one 
whom  I  do  not  distinctly  wish  to  see." 

"  Yes,  I  will  come,"  Marion  said ;  and  Miss  Ryde, 
placing  her  umbrella  against  the  bridge,  shook  hands 
formally  and  seriously,  and  then  resuming  it,  strode 
on  in  silence,  broken  now  and  then  by  half  words 
and  small  guttural  sounds  as  if  a  flood  of  speech 
were  struggling  to  make  its  way. 

The   evening  held    hardly   less   interest    than  the 


78  BALLANTYNE 

preceding  one,  and  on  Saturday  morning  Miss  Norris 
called  and  asked  if  she  would  help  one  evening  in 
the  week  in  the  work  they  were  doing  in  Chelsea. 

"  You  must  talk  with  my  father  about  it  all,"  she 
said.  "  We  are  always  at  Miss  Ryde's  for  Sunday 
evenings,  and  you  are  coming,  she  tells  me." 

"Yes,  I  am  coming,"  Marion  said,  "though  I 
did  not  mean  to  see  people  till  — " 

She  stopped  and  colored  a  little.  Precisely  what 
she  had  wished  to  say  was  hardly  plain  to  herself, 
and  how  could  she  make  it  plain  to  another  ?  Miss 
Norris  hurried  away,  and  Marion,  after  an  ineffectual 
attempt  to  work,  went  to  South  Kensington  and 
spent  the  rest  of  the  day  in  the  Museum. 

Why  her  pulse  should  quicken  and  a  little  thrill 
go  through  her  as  she  lifted  the  quaint  knocker  of 
the  old  house  early  Sunday  evening,  Marion  could 
not  tell,  but  the  quickening  was  there,  and  remained 
as  a  stern  and  inflexible  maid  opened  the  door  and 
preceded  her  up  the  broad  stairway  to  the  drawing- 
room.  Miss  Barbara  Ryde  in  black  velvet  gown 
and  some  beautiful  old  lace  was  a  creature  so  distinct 
from  the  shrouded  one  who  for  several  evenings  had 
been  her  escort  to  strange  corners  of  Battersea,  that 
Marion  would  hardly  have  recognized  her. 

"  You  are  to  take  Miss  Lacy  up  and  see  that  she 
is  comfortable,  Jane,"  were  her  first  words.  "She 
has  not  come  to  go  but  to  stay,  and  indeed  that  is 
so  with  most  that  come.  I  have  no  time  for  tran 
sient  people." 


BALLANTYNE  79 

Marion  followed  the  inflexible  Jane,  getting  no 
distinct  impression  of  anything  but  thick  Turkey 
carpets,  innumerable  cabinets  and  stands,  and  walls 
covered  with  pictures,  miniatures,  and  all  that  could 
hang.  She  was  still  in  mourning,  worn  in  deference 
to  Aunt  Theodosia's  wish,  but  against  her  own,  and 
which  she  had  meant  long  ago  to  put  aside ;  but  the 
beautiful  head  with  its  rippling  hair,  and  the  pure 
paleness  with  a  hint  of  color  in  the  cheeks,  were 
both  accented  by  the  black.  Marion  had  the  Lacy 
hands,  not  small  but  exquisitely  formed,  and  Jane 
gazed  upon  her  with  as  much  approval  as  could  be 
accorded  to  an  American,  remarking  to  the  parlor 
maid  as  she  descended,  that  for  one  who  came  from 
a  country  where  most  were  savages,  she  had  a  look 
that  might  even  be  English. 

A  little  group  was  gathered  at  the  end  of  the  room 
when  Marion  re-entered  it,  where  a  set  of  drawings 
were  hung  in  a  strong  light,  one  of  which  had  been 
taken  down  and  was  in  the  hands  of  a  gentleman 
whose  back  was  turned. 

"  A  man  perfect  in  his  way  and  beautifully  unfit 
for  walking  in  the  way  of  any  other  man,"  she  heard, 
with  instant  desire  to  know  who  it  could  be.  Vari 
ous  people  were  scattered  about,  and  from  another 
group  Miss  Norris  came  forward  cordially. 

"  My  father  is  here,"  she  said,  "  and  he  wants  to 
know  you,  and  a  friend  also  who  is  sitting  by  him. 
Miss  Ryde  will  take  you  presently  when  her  sofa  is 
empty.  It  is  true  German  fashion  that  rules  here. 


80  BALLANTYNE 

The  sofa  is  the  centre,  and  we  all  take  our  turn  in 
going  up  to  it,  but  it  is  not  so  much  of  an  ordeal  as  it 
sounds.  Papa,  this  is  our  new  friend  you  have  so 
wanted  to  talk  with,  and  here  is  a  quiet  corner  for  us 
all." 

Mr.  Norris  put  out  a  cordial  hand  as  he  rose;  a 
tall  man  with  close-curling  gray  hair  and  beard,  and 
brown  eyes  like  his  daughter's,  a  gentle,  rather  dreamy 
face,  yet  lighting  with  quick  gleams  of  humor  ;  a  man 
of  many  tastes,  and  a  writer  of  delicate,  graceful 
verse,  with  often  a  stronger  quality.  Marion  knew 
the  poems,  but  cared  most  for  his  art  work,  for  his 
knowledge  was  beyond  question,  and  his  taste  of 
the  simplest  and  purest.  He  had  been  in  the  midst 
of  earnest  talk  as  his  daughter  spoke,  and  Marion 
after  a  word  or  two  said,  "  Pray  go  on,  and  let  me 
listen,  if  I  may,"  and  seated  herself  by  the  stout  lady, 
who  had  made  room  with  a  smile  and  continued  the 
interrupted  remark. 

"  It  is  excellent  theory,  but  your  theory  would 
wipe  out  a  room  like  this,"  she  said. 

u  This  room  is  abnormal  and  outside  my  judg 
ment,"  said  Mr.  Norris.  "  In  one  way  it  is  justifi 
able,  since  it  is  a  growth,  and  means  the  devotion  of 
an  intelligent  collector.  But  it  is  a  museum,  chiefly, 
and  will  find  its  proper  place  presently  at  South  Ken 
sington,  since  these  treasures  belong  to  the  public, 
not  to  the  individual." 

"There  crops  out  your  socialism,"  said  the  first 
speaker.  "Without  the  individual  the  community 


BALLANTYNE  81 

would  hardly  have  been  likely  to  possess  them.  The 
fact  is,  individualism  must  lead,  else  your  community 
will  go  bare.  It  requires  the  highest  development  of 
individualism  to  have  just  perception  of  values." 

"  Norris's  theory  wipes  out  individualism  and 
values  together,"  interrupted  a  short  man  with  fiery 
hair  and  gleaming  blue  eyes,  who  had  crossed  the 
room  silently,  and  stood  now  looking  at  Marion, 
whose  eyes  were  fixed  on  Mr.  Norris's  face,  and 
who  recognized  the  voice  as  the  one  that  had  been 
speaking  when  she  entered. 

"  What  is  value  ?  "  asked  the  latter,  with  a  smile 
at  Marion,  —  a  smile  as  fascinating  as  the  daughter's. 

"  That  depends  upon  your  chosen  authority  in 
Political  Economy,"  returned  the  new-comer,  seat 
ing  himself  in  a  three-cornered  chair  with  an  air  of 
the  most  absolute  ease  and  satisfaction.  "  So  far  as 
I  am  concerned,  it  lies  in  the  possession  of  anything 
I  want  at  the  minute,  from  smooth-flowing  ink  to 
toast  of  the  right  shade  of  brown.  It  is  possible  that 
this  may  come  under  the  head  of  the  definition  of 
wealth,  but  the  two  to  me  are  synonymous.  Sensa 
tion  heightens  in  the  same  ratio  as  the  value,  or 
would,  for  instance,  if  I  could  persuade  Miss  Ryde 
here  to  give  me  one  of  her  Blakes  for  one  of  my 
Turners,  —  both  madmen,  it  is  true,  but  then  they 
could  draw,  which  remark  does  not  apply  to  the 
modern  school." 

"On  the  contrary,  Turner  never  pretended  to 
draw,"  said  Mr.  Norris,  in  his  slow  musical  voice. 

6 


82  BALLANTYNE 

"  His  methods  are  a  splash  and  a  squirt ;  a  splash 
from  a  rainbow  and  a  squirt  of  pure  sunshine,  I 
admit,  but  no  more  drawing,  Beresford,  than  in  that 
pea-green  c  nocturne  '  I  looked  at  with  you  yesterday." 

"There  is  too  little  and  too  much  and  never  just 
enough,"  said  Mr.  Beresford  with  a  groan,  but  pre 
serving  his  cheerful  expression.  "  As  you  saw  the 
pea-green  nocturne,  you  saw  also,  then,  the  study  in 
anatomy  next  it :  the  livid  young  woman,  resurrected 
apparently  after  several  days  underground,  and  the 
modern  conception  of  Hope.  She  needs  it,  poor 
soul,  for  nothing  else  is  left ;  but  why  it  must  smell 
of  the  grave  in  order  to  meet  popular  expectation, 
who  shall  say  ?  Blake  is  preposterous,  but  then  he 
puts  his  corpses  where  they  belong  and  has  a  good 
sense  of  flesh  and  blood.  That  bit  I  had  in  my  hand 
a  while  ago,  —  I'd  give,  —  well,  a  fair  price,"  he 
said,  interrupting  himself,  for  Miss  Ryde  had  risen 
and  was  moving  toward  them. 

"  Busy  as  usual,  running  down  whatever  is  good 
and  running  up  whatever  is  bad  ?  "  she  said,  interroga 
tively. 

"  No,  unless  your  Blakes  are  frauds,"  returned  Mr. 
Beresford,  cheerfully.  u  I  have  often  thought  there 
was  grave  doubt  as  to  that  lowest  one.  He  's  easy  to 
imitate,  you  see,  and  the  demand  for  him  came  all  at 
once,  and  it  is  quite  likely  you  might  be  deceived 
where  your  father  could  not  be." 

"  I  ?  "  said  Miss  Ryde,  with  a  gasp.  "  The  lowest 
one,  you  say  ;  the  cream  of  them  all  ?  Miss  Lacy, 


BALLANTYNE  83 

come  and  see,  and  whether  you  Ve  knowledge  of  such 
work  or  no,  look  if  ever  you  saw  painted  wind  that 
could  be  felt  as  it  blows  there.  Turn  it  full  to  the 
ligh^  John  Ballantyne ;  Miss  Lacy  must  see  well." 

As  she  spoke  she  had  drawn  Marion  toward  the 
corner,  and  Mr.  Ballantyne,  turning  from  the  friend 
with  whom  he  had  been  in  close  talk,  bowed  quietly 
and  took  down  the  drawing.  It  held  the  gnarled  and 
laboring  branches  of  an  ancient  oak,  bowed  hedgerows, 
and  fields  of  corn  beyond ;  every  blade  distinct  and 
straightened  out  in  the  wind  that  whirled  across  this 
open  country.  Above  it  the  moon  rode  high;  not 
quailing  nor  flickering  as  one  would  fancy  she  must 
before  such  a  gale,  but  the  fire  in  her  crescent,  a  white 
triumphal  light  above  cloud  and  blast.  Why  this 
steady  light  above  the  cloud  should  carry  such  sense 
of  storm  and  passion  ;  why,  indeed,  the  narrow  bound 
ary  of  the  drawing  could  ever  have  been  made  to  hold 
it,  Marion  could  not  comprehend,  but  she  felt  the 
power  that  had  wrought  in  every  line,  and  Miss  Ryde 
nodded,  well  satisfied  as  she  saw  the  delight  in  her 
face. 

"There's  your  answer,  Beresford,"  she  said. 
"  There  's  naught  on  earth  you  won't  question,  but 
you  owe  it  to  a  man  who  worked  out  his  honest 
thought  without  a  stain  of  falsehood  from  beginning 
to  end,  not  to  deny  what  his  own  hand  did,  even  for 
a  good  joke  against  an  old  woman." 

Mr.  Beresford  sprang  up  and  bowed  low  before  her. 

"  Madam,"  he  said,  with  a  sudden  change  of  tone, 


84  BALLANTYNE 

"  we  are  too  old  friends  not  to  understand  each  other. 
You  can  never  honor  William  Blake  more  than  I  do. 
Nothing  is  cheaper  or  easier  than  funeral  speeches, 
but  this  drawing  would  give  his  quality  if  not  another 
line  were  left  on  the  earth." 

Miss  Ryde  looked  at  him  with  a  smile. 

"You  Ve  an  Irish  tongue,  Beresford,"  she  said, 
"  and  you  do  what  you  choose  with  it.  For  the  most 
part  I  find  no  fault  with  its  uses ; "  and  she  moved  away 
with  him  to  the  sofa,  where,  conscience-stricken  for 
having  so  played  on  her  feelings,  he  devoted  himself  to 
still  further  placating  her.  Jane,  who  had  some  time 
before  lighted  the  lamp  under  the  beautiful  kettle  on  a 
little  table  near  Miss  Ryde,  entered  now  with  hot  but 
tered  tea-cakes,  which  followed  each  other  in  relays, 
accompanied  by  Devonshire  cream,  and  a  rich  jam 
made  apparently  of  several  fruits,  which  Miss  Ryde 
announced  as  also  Devonshire. 

"  I  dine  early  on  Sunday,"  she  said  to  Marion, 
"and  I  am  opposed  to  early  supper,  so  those  who 
come  to  me  must  satisfy  themselves  as  they  can.  Mr. 
Ballantyne  will  take  care  of  you,  and  you  are  to  look 
at  his  teacup  as  well  as  your  own,  for  they  are  some 
of  the  first  Royal  Worcester,  and  none  but  I  and  Jane 
ever  handle  one  of  them." 

"  You  must  look  at  everything,"  Mr.  Ballantyne 
said,  as  he  made  place  for  her  in  the  corner.  u  It  is 
a  distracting  but  delightful  prospect,  though  for  my 
self  I  think  I  prefer  this  end  of  the  room  to  any  other, 
for  Blake  has  always  fascinated  me.  These  drawings 


BALLANTYNE  85 

need  strong  daylight,  however,  and  it  is  hardly  fair  to 
begin  with  them  in  this  mixture  of  twilight  and 
candle-light." 

Marion's  eyes  had  wandered  from  them  to  the 
river,  still  plain  to  see  in  the  soft,  lingering  English 
twilight,  boats  passing  now  and  then  soundlessly,  and 
only  an  occasional  voice  breaking  the  silence  of  the 
silent  English  Sunday.  Then  she  turned  back  to  her 
tea-cake,  eating  it  with  critical  enjoyment,  as  well  as 
her  portion  of  the  curious  conserve,  which  had  half  a 
dozen  flavors,  blending  in  one  peculiar,  desirable,  and 
yet  quite  undefinable  one. 

"  It  is  like  the  room,"  she  said  at  last  as  Mr.  Bal- 
lantyne,  who  had  been  watching  her  while  he  chatted 
on,  asked : 

"  What  is  the  result  of  the  investigation  ?  " 

"  It  must  have  begun  in  the  West  Indies,  I  think," 
Marion  answered.  "  I  have  had  something  like  it  at 
my  grandfather's  in  Nantucket." 

"  Ha !  "  said  Miss  Ryde,  who  had  bent  forward 
and  caught  her  words.  "  What  creatures  these 
Americans  are  !  They  eat  everything  and  remember 
everything.  You  are  perfectly  right.  It  is  West 
Indian,  and  my  grandfather  had  the  rule  from  a 
daughter  who  married  and  went  to  Jamaica,  and  the 
old  housekeeper  made  it  from  her  directions,  just  the 
same,  only  with,  of  course,  English  fruits.  There 
is  rum  in  it,  among  many  other  things,  but  none  to 
do  harm.  You  may  have  more,  John  Ballantyne, 
if  you  wish."  ' 


86  BALLANTYNE 

"  Next  Sunday,"  he  said,  as  Miss  Ryde  herself 
brought  the  dish  of  jam.  "  It  is  only  for  Sundays. 
Do  you  see  the  dish,  Miss  Lacy  ?  It  is  only  a 
bubble  that  has  consented  not  to  break.  I  have 
never  seen  you  use  that  before,  Miss  Ryde." 

u  No,  but  I  am  taking  the  cabinets  in  turn,  and  I 
mean  that  each  thing  in  them  shall  have  its  use  before 
I  am  done  with  them,"  his  hostess  made  answer, 
holding  the  exquisite  thing  against  the  light.  "  If 
they  break,  it  is  one  less  trouble  for  my  heirs ;  but 
they  don't  break.  Now,  Miss  Lacy,  it  is  your  turn. 
I  have  been  put  off  long  enough  by  one  and  another;  " 
and  Marion,  who  had  seen  in  the  young  man's  eyes 
a  sudden  astonished  and  intent  look  as  she  said  the 
words  "  my  grandfather  in  Nantucket,"  found  her 
self  on  the  great  sofa,  and  facing  Miss  Ryde  in  a  new 
character,  that  of  the  hostess,  serenely  happy  in  dis 
pensing  her  hospitality,  and  enjoying  knowing  how 
to  bring  and  hold  together  people  of  most  varying 
opinions  and  convictions. 

"  Now  I  will  tell  you  who  they  all  are,"  she  said. 
"  You  will  get  to  know  them  better  if  you  take  it 
gradually,  as  you  will,  if  you  come  here  often." 

"  Just  as  often  as  you  will  let  me,"  Marion  said. 
"  It  is  the  most  charming  old  room  I  ever  saw. 
Room  and  people  are  delightful  alike.  You  are  very 
good  to  let  me  come." 

"  Sometimes  they  are  delightful,  and  sometimes 
they  are  not,"  said  Miss  Ryde,  with  a  grim  look 
toward  the  stout  lady  who  still  held'  Mr.  Norris  at 


BALLANTYNE  87 

her  side.  "  People  ought  to  come  together  with  no 
personal  ends  to  serve,  and  only  general  comfort  in 
view.  But  you  can't  manage  a  drawing-room  as  you 
manage  a  lecture-room.  I  take  my  Clubs  through 
the  week,  but  I  don't  want  to  be  pinned  to  any  one 
man's  expounding  on  Sunday,  and  there  comes  in  the 
one  difficulty  with  convictions.  Nobody  ever  can 
have  as  much  of  Norris  as  they  wish,  because  Madame 
Bogavsky  is  bent  upon  converting  him  to  Theosophy. 
Those  three  people  by  the  tall  cabinet  in  the  corner 
are  all  Theosophists,  —  an  artist,  an  author,  and  a 
member  of  Parliament,  —  who  might  be  in  better  busi 
ness.  What  people  want  of  a  religion  whose  heaven 
is  distinctly  more  disagreeable  than  a  well-regulated 
hell  I  can't  see,  but  I  don't  doubt  she  will  explain  it 
all  to  you,  and  it  is  worth  while  to  listen  a  bit,  if 
only  to  feel  your  privileges  in  not  being  a  chela  or 
any  of  the  other  things,  and  forced  to  concentrate  ten 
years  maybe  on  the  pit  of  your  own  stomach. 

"  This  is  all  it  is  worth  while  saying  about  them," 
she  went  on  after  a  pause  of  indignation.  "  That 
little  lady  with  the  pretty  voice  and  mild  eyes  is  the 
editor  of  an  Anarchist  paper,  and  would  blow  both 
my  house  and  me  up  in  a  minute  for  the  good  of 
society  ;  and  the  big  man  she  's  talking  with  is  Lord 
Dalrymple,  Conservative  member  from  Boston  —  not 
yours,  but  ours.  That  tallest  man  by  the  middle 
window  is  my  cousin,  Lord  Herbert  Hetherington, 
who  has  the  old  place,  and  is  the  apostle  of  what  he 
calls  '  individualism ; '  and  the  lady  near  him  has  ex- 


88  BALLANTYNE 

plained  him  in  a  book,  and  is  a  woman  of  sense  in 
spite  of  it.  The  other  one,  that  short,  dark  man 
distracted  by  his  eyeglass,  —  and  he  deserves  to  be, 
for  why  were  we  born  with  two  eyes,  if  not  to  use 
them  ?  —  is  young  Dyce,  the  editor  of  a  '  series '  of 
some  sort.  Everything  is  a  c  series  '  now.  He  came 
out  of  the  North  somewhere,  and  is  deep  in  love  with 
Eleanor  there,  who  cares  more  for  his  series  than  for 
him.  The  rest  are  a  mixture.  They  all  come  and 
go ;  some  because  they  like  my  house,  and  the  people 
they  meet ;  one  or  two  because  they  are  old  friends, 
and  we  are  loyal  to  each  other,  and  should  ill  bear 
missing  a  look  at  each  other's  faces  ;  and  the  rest  I 
measure  and  sift,  and  get  rid  of  if  necessary." 

"  And  Mr.  Ballantyne  ?  "  Marion  said  after  a  little 
pause  in  which  she  waited,  wondering  if  his  name 
would  come  next.  She  had  colored  slightly  as  she 
spoke,  but  Miss  Ryde,  whose  eyes  were  fixed  on 
Eleanor  Norris's  face,  alive  now  with  mischief  as  she 
talked  with  Mr.  Beresford,  did  not  notice  it. 

"  Ah,  he  is  one  of  the  old  ones,"  she  said, "  though 
not  of  the  oldest.  He  was  with  young  Herbert 
Hetherington  at  Oxford,  and  kept  him  in  a  straight 
track  when  no  other  mortal  ever  could,  and  for  that 
alone  he  would  be  friend  to  all  of  us.  When  he 
leaves  us,  for  leave  he  will  some  day,  —  though  that 
means  that  his  mother  must  die  first,  for  he  cannot 
till  she  is  gone,  —  there  will  be  no  one  to  take  his 
place,  and  so,  in  spite  of  the  longing  that  is  in  him, 
I  cannot  but  wish  her  long  life.  It  will  not  be  hers, 


BALLANTYNE  89 

though.  She  holds  on  with  a  will,  but  it  can't  last, 
and  then  he  will  be  free." 

u  That  is  a  strange  word,"  Marion  said,  u  for  the 
death  of  one  nearest  him." 

"  Ah,  but  you  do  not  understand,"  began  Miss 
Ryde,  and  then  checked  herself.  "  I  '11  tell  you 
some  day,"  she  said.  "  Now  I  have  had  you  longer 
than  is  my  right,  and  there  is  Eleanor  shaking  her 
head  at  me.  Tell  that  young  Dyce  I  want  him,  you 
gypsy,  and  then  go  off  with  your  prize  in  what  corner 
you  will." 

u  We  must  go  altogether  very  soon,  indeed,"  said 
Miss  Norris,  "  but  we  can  talk  a  little  first.  I  want 
you  to  promise  to  come  to  us,  Miss  Lacy,  for  till 
you  do,  there  will  never  really  be  time  to  talk  to  you 
as  I  wish.  When  I  come  up,  it  is  always  with  some 
specific  thing  to  do,  except  these  Sunday  evenings, 
which  have  belonged  to  Miss  Ryde  as  long  as  I  can 
remember.  She  and  my  father  were  children  together. 
I  want  you  to  understand  all  that  we  are  doing  —  all 
that  we  are  hoping  for.  Mr.  Ballantyne  is  coming 
down  on  Wednesday,  to  dine  and  talk  over  the 
new  scheme  of  young  Herbert  Hetherington's,  and 
I  wonder  if  you  would  not  come  at  the  same  time  ? 
You  will,  I  am  sure,  and  we  will  put  you  up  for  the 
night.  Mr.  Ballantyne,  I  have  a  plan,"  she  went 
on,  as  he  turned  from  Mr.  Hetherington  and  came 
toward  her.  "  I  have  begged  Miss  Lacy  to  come 
down  on  Wednesday,  and  she  is  so  good  as  to  say 
she  will." 


90  BALLANTYNE 

u  Then  perhaps  Miss  Lacy  will  allow  me  to  be  her 
guide  again  ?  "  he  said,  quickly. 

"  With  pleasure,"  Marion  replied,  as  he  sat  down 
by  her  with  the  same  eager  look  in  his  eyes. 

"  Tell  me,  please,"  he  said,  as  Miss  Norris  rose 
suddenly  to  speak  to  some  one  who  was  passing  out. 
"  You  are  an  American,  are  you  not  ?  I  supposed 
you  English  till  that  word  of  yours.  Is  it  possible 
that  you  are  from  Nantucket  ?  " 

u  Not  I,  but  my  father,"  Marion  answered.  "  I 
was  born  in  Boston,  but  my  father  was  the  son  of 
Grantham  Lacy,  —  old  Captain  Lacy  of  Nantucket, 

—  and  was  born  there." 

"  And  my  father  was  the  son  of  Captain  John 
Ballantyne,  your  grandfather's  cousin  from  New  Bed 
ford,  and  my  mother  was  born  in  Nantucket." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Marion,  involuntarily.  "  It  was  a 
John,  then,  that  came  to  shore,  just  as  old  Friend 
Barstow  hoped." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  with  an  astonished  look.  "  I  am 
the  sixth  John  Ballantyne  for  America." 

"  And  an  American  !  I  do  not  know  how  to 
believe  it." 

<c  Yes,  thank  God,  I  am  American !  "  said  John 
Ballantyne,  with  a  little  motion  as  if  there  were  hat 
to  doff  at  the  name.  "  I  seem  English,  I  suppose, 
because  my  life  has  been  lived  here,  but  I  am  held 
here  by  circumstance.  I  will  tell  you,  when  we  go 
together,  if  I  may.  But  I  am  an  American  indeed  ; 

—  an  American  to  the  finest  fibre  in  me,  and  with 


BALLANTYNE  91 

Lacy    blood    in    your    veins   you    can    be    no    less 


so. 


"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Marion,  after  a  breathless 
pause  in  which  she  longed  to  be  silent,  but  felt  she 
must  not  be,  "  I  do  not  love  America.  There  have 
been  times  when  I  have  even  loathed  it.  It  means 
to  me  some  of  the  worst  things  in  modern  life.  I  am 
heartily  and  devotedly  English  in  my  feeling." 

As  Marion  spoke  the  fervor  in  Ballantyne's  face 
gave  place  to  amazement,  and  then  a  deep  pity  looked 
from  his  eyes,  mingled  with  a  little  indignation. 

"You  are  like  one  or  two  others  that  I  have  seen," 
he  said.  "  You  do  not  understand.  You  —  " 

"  John  Ballantyne  !  You  said  you  were  to  go 
down  to  Badgeley  to-night,  and  a  cab  is  at  the  door," 
called  Miss  Ryde  suddenly  from  the  doorway  ;  and 
with  a  hasty,  "  This  must  wait,  but  I  shall  come  for 
you  on  Wednesday,"  he  bowed  and  hurried  away. 


Chapter  Seventh 


1  "W  "W*  "THAT  have  you  been  doing  ?  "  Miss 
^  ^L  I  Ryde  asked  suspiciously,  looking  from 
^y  W  the  Embankment  down  to  the  land 
ing  and  the  little  boat  from  which 
Marion  was  just  stepping,  still  smiling  and  waving 
her  hand  to  the  grizzled  old  sailor,  a  Chelsea  pen 
sioner,  who  touched  his  cap,  and  looked  at  her  ad 
miringly  as  she  went  up  the  stairs.  u  Have  you  let 
that  old  reprobate  fill  your  head  with  his  fabrications, 
and  how  dare  you  go  on  the  river  alone  ?  " 

"  Nothing  could  be  truer  than  his  tales,"  said 
Marion,  who  was  finding  that  calm  opposition  was 
the  best  method  of  meeting  Miss  Ryde's  aggressive 
side.  "The  river  rests  and  stimulates  me  at  once. 
I  have  always  rowed  at  home." 

"  You  want  no  rest  save  your  natural  sleep,  nor 
stimulus,  save  thankfulness  that  you  are  alive,"  said 
Miss  Ryde,  decisively.  "  What  has  a  child  like  you 
to  do  with  words  that  belong  to  battered  middle  life  ? 
They  are  for  me  and  not  for  you,  though  I  admit  you 
Americans  live  so  fast  that  you  are  old  in  your  youth. 
I  would  go  over  to  see  what  a  nation  of  you  must  be 
like,  if  1  did  not  think  that  among  you  I  should  be 


BALLANTYNE  93 

driven  into  lunacy.  That  is  not  what  I  wish  to  talk 
about,  however.  I  am  just  come  from  Mrs.  Pattle's, 
who  said  you  were  out,  and  I  went  there  to  tell  you 
that  I  would  go  down  to  Hammersmith  with  you, 
since  a  telegram  has  come  from  John  Ballantyne,  to 
say  that  his  mother  is  too  ill  to  leave.  All  his  move 
ments  wait  on  hers.  Shall  I  go  ?  " 

"  No,  thanks ;  it  will  alter  all  your  plans,"  Marion 
said.  "  I  am  to  stay,  you  know,  and  I  shall  like  the 
excitement  of  finding  the  place." 

"Rest,  stimulus,  excitement,"  Miss  Ryde  said. 
"This  generation  lives  for  sensation  solely.  I  am 
seeking  to  see  why." 

"  And  in  the  process  finding  a  number  for  personal 
use,"  said  Marion  with  a  laugh,  and  as  Miss  Ryde 
turned  toward  her  own  house,  ran  in  and  up  to  her 
room.  A  duplicate  of  Miss  Ryde's  dispatch  lay  on 
her  table,  and  she  picked  it  up  and  stood  for  a 
moment  after  she  had  read  it,  smiling  at  her  own 
keen  disappointment. 

"  Fate  has  the  matter  in  charge,"  she  thought.  "  I 
wanted  to  hear  the  whole  story,  but,  after  all,  practi 
cally  I  know  it  all,  since  he  is  certainly  John  Ballan 
tyne,  and  that  was  the  chief  puzzle.  On  the  whole  I 
wish  he  were  not.  To  find  a  delightful  Englishman 
only  a  rather  extraordinary  American  is  a  disappoint 
ment  to  which  I  am  unreconciled  and  shall  be.  All 
the  same  I  want  the  story.  Now  away  with  any 
more  unreasonableness  !  Oh,  for  invention,  and  all 
benign  gods  that  watch  over  crude  aspiration ! "  and 


94  BALLANTYNE 

Marion  lifted  the  cloth  from  her  clay  and  soon  was 
absorbed  in  work. 

Hammersmith  was  an  unknown  country,  but  she 
looked  it  up  in  her  Bradshaw,  found  the  right  train, 
and  at  five  o'clock  entered  the  station  at  one  door  as 
Mr.  Beresford  and  young  Hetherington  appeared  at 
another.  Mr.  Beresford  came  over  to  her  with  the 
quick,  even  jaunty,  cheerfulness  that  characterized 
step  as  well  as  look  and  voice,  and  in  a  moment  had 
taken  her  as  thoroughly  in  charge  as  even  Miss  Ryde 
could  have  done. 

Hetherington  seconded  him  as  if  he  would  gladly 
be  less  impassive  if  he  could,  and  Marion  as  opportu 
nity  came  studied  his  face,  wondering  where  the  pro 
pensity  for  high  betting  and  other  evil  ways  came  in. 
He  was  tall  and  bulky  already ;  a  genuine  country 
squire,  with  Miss  Ryde's  very  face,  minus  her  alert 
ness,  his  chief  attraction  being  a  slow,  sweet  smile 
that  lightened  his  heaviness,  and  gave  a  glimpse  of 
something  that  might  be  in  permanent  residence  be 
low  this  unresponsive  surface.  Evidently  he  admired 
Mr.  Beresford  immensely,  listening  to  each  word  as 
if  it  were  an  oracle,  and  no  less  evidently  he  admired 
Marion,  who,  accustomed  to  the  adoration  of  Tom's 
classmates,  took  this  undemonstrative  form  quite 
unconsciously. 

"What  is  there  in  Hammersmith  besides  the 
Norrises  ?  "  she  asked,  as  the  stifling  little  under 
ground  journey,  delayed  by  some  accident,  ended, 
and  they  emerged  from  the  station  into  daylight. 


BALLANTYNE  95 

"  Nothing  but  a  few  thousand  everyday  people, 
mostly  Philistines,  who  are  doing  their  best  to  make 
the  world  a  cockney  nightmare ;  a  state  of  things 
which  Norris  is  fighting  as  heartily  as  Carlyle  did, 
and  with  about  the  same  success,"  returned  her  com 
panion.  "  Norris  is  here  because  of  the  works  that 
need  his  supervision.  He  is  the  salt  in  the  meal. 
You  know  he  chooses  to  manufacture  as  well  as 
make  verses." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it,"  Marion  said,  "  and  wonder  at 
it,  too,  since  he  inveighs  against  any  life  of  the  town. 
I  heard  him  Sunday  evening  accusing  Miss  Ryde  of 
no  desire  beyond  a  grimy  palace  amid  the  smoke,  with 
a  regiment  of  housemaids  always  working  to  smear 
the  dirt  together  so  that  it  would  be  unnoticed." 

"  He  is  right,"  said  Mr.  Beresford.  "  London  is 
the  apotheosis  of  soot.  English  smoke  and  soot  are 
killing  any  English  sense  of  color.  Fog  and  fume 
without  must  mean  fog  and  fume  within.  It  is  a 
fact  that  France  is  far  ahead  of  us.  We  have  tech 
nical  education  enough  for  accuracy  of  form,  but  any 
perception  of  gradation  or  subtle  contrast  in  color  is 
impossible.  That  is  how  it  comes  that  aniline  dyes, 
false  and  hard,  are  better  liked  than  the  tender  tinting 
of  nature.  Norris  is  right  to  protest,  as  the  master 
Ruskin  did  long  ago.  The  elder  art  is  dead,  quite 
dead.  As  to  the  new,  Norris  has  already  said  that  it 
has  the  hands  of  a  child  and  the  heart  of  a  troubled 
man,  and  what  its  course  will  be  no  man  can  yet 
know.  Here  is  the  house  at  last.  You  will  find 


96  BALLANTYNE 

it  charming  within,  whatever  lack  there  may  be 
without." 

Certainly  it  was  at  that  moment  most  charming 
without.  Eleanor  Norris  in  a  gown  of  some  soft 
white  stuff,  floating  about  her,  stood  in  the  dark  door 
way,  and  stretched  her  hands  to  Marion. 

"  We  had  quite  given  you  up,"  she  said.  "  It  is 
so  late,  and  I  stole  down  just  to  see  with  my  own 
eyes  if  there  was  by  chance  any  fog.  I  am  so  glad 
you  are  here.  Where  is  Mr.  Ballantyne,  Herbert  ?  " 

"  The  mater,  again,  I  suppose,"  Mr.  Hetherington 
said  in  his  slow  drawl,  and  Marion  hastened  to 
explain. 

"  You  will  find  we  are  a  sort  of  family  party," 
Eleanor  said,  as  she  led  Marion  to  her  room,  to  which 
a  servant  had  already  taken  her  portmanteau.  u  In 
spite  of  the  strangers  that  come  and  go,  there  is 
always  a  nucleus  of  our  own  people.  My  father  is 
uneasy  without  at  least  one  familiar  face  in  a  com 
pany,  and  I  share  his  feeling.  He  will  be  specially 
disappointed  to-night  because  John  Ballantyne  is 
hindered  from  coming,  and  this  grand  scheme  of 
Herbert's  must  wait  discussion.  Do  you  need  a 
maid  ?  I  have  none  but  a  girl  who  began  as  maid, 
but  has  talent,  and  is  being  taught  designing.  She  is 
the  third  that  has  gone  that  way,  among  our  servants, 
but  then  they  were  not  of  that  order  after  all.  Mamma 
has  experimented  with  '  lady  help.'  We  experiment 
in  everything.  Now  come,  you  beautiful  thing,  you  ! 
You  shall  be  drawn  as  the  Viking's  daughter.  How 


BALLANTYNE  97 

is  it  that  you  seem  that,  when,  after  all,  you  are 
little  ?  " 

Marion  started  as  Tom's  words  repeated  themselves. 

"There  must  be  something  Norse  and  fierce  in 
my  aspect,"  she  said  as  they  descended  the  stairway, 
of  heavy  oak,  looking  about  as  she  went.  Nothing 
could  be  in  greater  contrast  to  Miss  Ryde's  overflow 
ing  house  than  this,  in  which  the  simplicity  would 
have  seemed  almost  bare,  but  for  richness  and  har 
mony  of  coloring,  and  the  most  perfect  material.  A 
vivacious  little  lady  stood  near  the  chimney-piece  in 
the  drawing-room,  clad  in  a  sad-colored  plush  gown, 
from  which  her  eager  little  head  rose,  its  loose  curls 
those  of  child  rather  than  matron,  and  her  whole  alert 
figure  a  protest  against  the  heavy  draping  she  elected 
for  it. 

"  I  am  delighted,"  she  said,  as  she  crossed  the 
room,  both  hands  extended.  "  I  have  been  so  eager 
for  Wednesday  to  come." 

u  I  did  not  know  it  was  to  be  a  formal  evening," 
said  Marion.  "  I  thought  it  was  to  be  quite  a  family 
affair,  and  that  you  would  be  alone." 

"We  are  never  alone,"  Mrs.  Norris  answered. 
"  Some  one  is  always  being  brought  home,  so  that 
when  I  plan  for  a  certain  number  of  guests,  I  always 
allow  one  or  two  more  places,  for  Philip  will  begin 
a  discussion  with  anybody,  from  a  duke  to  a  barge 
man,  and  as  he  never  stops  till  the  moment  in  which 
he  must  rush  for  the  train,  he  ends  with  saying, 
'  Come  and  we  will  finish  it  at  dinner.'  I  hear  his 

7 


B ALLANTYNE 


step  now.  It  is  always  our  conundrum,  —  'Who  will 
be  with  him  to-day  ? '  " 

"  Whoever  it  is,  you  are  always  just  as  much  inter 
ested  as  he,  and  make  them  delightfully  at  home," 
said  Eleanor,  moving  in  her  quick,  graceful  fashion 
across  the  room,  and  to  the  door,  where,  a  moment 
later,  Mr.  Norris  entered,  followed  by  a  young  fellow 
with  cheeks  still  flushed  from  hot  debate. 

"  Ah,  Paget  ! "  Mr.  Beresford  cried,  with  a  rush 
across  the  room.  u  I  thought  you  were  ofF  to  the 
Continent." 

"  My  luggage  is,"  said  the  young  man,  with  a  laugh; 
u  but  Norris  haled  me  away  for  a  final  and  satisfactory 
row  over  art  in  general,  and  here  I  am,  pelted  with 
abuse  all  the  way  down,  and  wondering  why  I 
submitted." 

"  You  submitted  because  under  those  layers  of 
what  you  call  artistic  sense,  there  is  still  a  gleam  of 
soul,"  said  Mr.  Norris,  who  had  put  out  his  hand  to 
Eleanor,  and  stood  there  smiling  at  wife  and  daughter, 
but  still  bent  upon  carrying  his  point. 

"  To  end  a  day  of  hard  work  with  a  callant  like 
that !  "  he  went  on.  "  Ideas  !  yes,  but  not  a  correct 
one  among  the  lot,  and  his  whole  business  to  learn 
over  again,  if  he  would  leave  after  him  a  picture 
worth  hanging." 

"  It  is  the  old  story,"  Eleanor  began ;  but  dinner 
was  at  this  moment  announced,  and  they  passed  in 
formally  into  the  dining-room.  It  proved  a  battle 
royal,  from  which  each  side  emerged  smiling  and 


B ALLANTYNE 


99 


confident  it  had  won.  The  courses  came  and  went ; 
not  many,  for  the  simplicity  of  furnishing  extended 
also  to  the  menu,  but  all  delicately  cooked  and  served, 
though  in  this  war  of  words  Marion  wondered  if 
any  one  had  really  dined,  or  knew  the  flavor  of  a  dish. 
"  It 's.  the  Scotch  streak  in  Norris  that  makes  him 
so  pugnacious,"  said  Mr.  Beresford  confidentially,  as 
they  finally  rose.  "  At  first  I  never  knew  what  I  had 
eaten,  and  had  frightful  indigestions.  Now  I  take  a 
hand  in  when  necessary,  but  dine  calmly ;  and  we  all 
learn  to  do  it,  you  know.  After  all,  you  see,  Norris 
is  right.  He  is  the  prophet  of  a  high  simplicity." 

"  Define  it,"  said  Marion.  "  I  wish  to  under 
stand." 

"  No.  You  are  making  game  of  us  all ;  quite 
quietly  but  delightedly.  I  see  it,"  said  Mr.  Beresford, 
shaking  his  fiery  locks.  "After  all,  each  means 
practically  the  same  thing.  The  Nineteenth,  the 
century  of  commerce,  the  destruction  of  the  art  spirit. 
The  Twentieth,  the  century  of  education,  and  a  re 
vival  of  what  is  now  dead  and  buried." 

"  But  that  is  atrocious,"  said  Marion.  "Admitting 
that  the  art  spirit  is  dead,  in  any  such  sense  as  ruled 
among  the  old  Greeks,  it  is  an  insult  to  many  a  name 
of  to-day  to  hoot  in  such  fashion  at  modern  art." 

"  You  among  the  Philistines  !  "  said  Mr.  Beresford 
dejectedly,  but  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

Mr.  Norris  crossed  the  room,  and  stood  with  his 
coffee-cup  beside  her. 

"  I  am  not,"  said  Marion,  decisively.     "  I  never 


ioo  BALLANTYNE 

was,  and  never  shall  be.  But  this  cry  that  we  have 
no  'art  spirit  seems  irrational.  Look  at  our  great 
museums." 

"  Yes,  look  at  them,"  said  her  host.  "  Is  there 
anything  more  melancholy,  when  you  consider  what 
a  tale  of  abominable  violence,  of  shameful  careless 
ness,  of  lawless  destruction,  every  one  of  these  treas 
ured  scraps  might  tell.  A  museum  is  simply  the 
unconsciously  erected  monument  to  the  results  of 
some  of  the  worst  passions  of  man." 

"  Then  you  would  scatter  these  scraps,  as  you  call 
them  ?  "  Marion  said. 

"  No ;  because  the  mischief  is  done,  and  we  must 
hold  to  such  memorials  as  there  are  of  a  dead  beauty. 
Art  and  the  arts  have  sunk  lower  and  lower,  till  even 
cultivated  men  have  less  and  less  conception  of  what 
they  mean.  Take  London  itself  with  all  its  possi 
bilities  ;  —  seventy  years  ago,  as  sunny  a  city  as  Eng 
land  owned.  Now  you  have  on  the  one  hand  squalor, 
on  the  other,  blank  uncompromising  ugliness,  all  alike 
dominated  by  smoke ;  all  alike  decorated  by  this  foul 
flying  soot,  that  is  part  of  the  first  breath  of  the  new 
born  babe,  and  makes  harder  the  last  gasp  of  the 
dying.  Till  the  people  are  roused  again  to  a  con 
sciousness  of  what  art  means,  it  must  be  always  worse 
and  not  better,  till  at  last,  maybe,  we  shall  wipe  the 
slate  quite  clean  and  begin  again." 

"  In  the  meantime  I  shall  hie  me  to  Paris  to  the 
latest  abominations,"  said  young  Paget,  who  had  lis 
tened  seriously  as  he  stood  in  the  background,  but 


BALLANTYNE  101 

came  forward  now  with  a  laugh.  "  I  shall  be  back 
in  time  to  give  you  some  fresh  material  for  your  fury. 
Good  night,  and  auf '  wiederszken.  I  am  late." 

He  hurried  out  with  a  hasty,  "  Ah,  Ballantyne. 
There  you  are,  after  all,"  and  Marion  looked  up  to 
see  John  Ballantyne  entering  the  room.  Herbert 
Hetherington's  impassive  face  brightened  as  he  said  : 

"  Good,  John  !  We  shall  have  the  settlement  after 
all." 

"  Come  away  before  another  battle  begins,"  said 
Mr.  Beresford.  "  The  ladies  will  pardon  us  for  a 
little.  The  papers  are  all  in  the  library,  John." 

Mr.  Norris,  with  rather  a  longing  look  toward  the 
group  near  the  window,  followed  his  energetic  lead 
and  disappeared  behind  the  great  oaken  doors,  beckon 
ing  to  Ballantyne,  who  paused  only  for  a  moment's 
greeting,  and  to  explain  that  his  mother  had  become 
better,  and  insisted  upon  his  keeping  his  engagement. 

"  We  could  go,  too,"  said  Mrs.  Norris,  "  but  I 
think  we  shall  be  happier  here.  I  want  to  hear  my 
own  voice  a  little,  to  say  nothing  of  yours,  Miss 
Lacy,  and  I  am  sure  there  will  be  great  repose  in 
letting  squabbling  go  for  a  few  minutes." 

"  Poor  little  mamma !  "  said  Eleanor,  pityingly. 
"  What  would  you  do  in  the  House  of  Commons  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  even  wish  to  think,"  said  Mrs.  Norris, 
with  a  shake  of  her  head.  "  You  are  all  discussing 
the  nature  of  the  century.  I  insist  that  it  is  a  cen 
tury  of  words.  Now  and  then  somebody  does  a 
spasmodic  deed,  usually  the  wrong  one,  but  as  a  rule 


102  BALLANTYNE 

nobody  has  time  for  anything  but  talking  about  them. 
It  is  all  foam." 

"  The  foam  of  yeast,'.'  said  Eleanor.  "  All  this  is 
leaven  for  our  bread  to  be.  If  there  had  been  no 
words,  Herbert  would  never  have  been  stirred  up 
to  his  thought  for  these  factory  people,  and  John 
Ballantyne  would  not  be  in  the  library  settling  the 
way.  Do  you  want  to  know  about  it  ?  "  she  asked, 
turning  to  Marion,  whose  eyes  had  held  the  unspoken 
question.  "  You  do,  I  see.  The  Ballantynes  have 
a  house  at  Badgeley-on-Thames ;  a  delicious  old 
place  where  artists  go,  and  about  which  I  could  tell 
a  most  wonderful  tale.  It  is  quite  apart  from  the 
town  which  is  stretching  out  to  it,  and  where  there 
are  manufactories  of  all  orders,  one  of  which,  on  the 
outskirts,  belongs  to  Herbert.  It  is  so  far  out  that 
the  operatives  are  almost  in  Badgeley,  and  living  in 
such  wretched  ways  that  John  Ballantyne  found  the 
sight  of  it  intolerable.  It  has  taken  a  long  time  to 
convince  Herbert,  who  is  slow ;  but  now  he  means 
not  only  to  have  a  model  village,  with  some  beauty 
in  it,  but  profit-sharing  and  humanizing  of  things 
generally.  Papa  has  drawn  some  of  the  sketches, 
and  Mr.  Beresford,  who  is  an  architect,  you  know, 
is  to  see  if  they  are  really  working  plans,  and  alto 
gether  they  are  settling  to-night  just  how  to  begin, 
and  where." 

u  If  they  do  not  get  into  another  discussion,"  said 
Mrs.  Norris,  plaintively,  u  and  spend  the  rest  of  the 
night  at  that." 


BALLANTYNE  103 

"  Then  they  will  all  emerge  wiser  than  when  they 
began,"  said  Eleanor.  "  You  don't  properly  appre 
ciate  your  opportunities,  mamma.  You  need  sooth 
ing,  and  you  shall  have  it.  I  will  play  till  the  spirit 
of  Silence  and  Peace  descends  and  broods  over  the 
entire  house,  and  everybody  becomes  of  one  mind." 

Mrs.  Norris  leaned  her  head  against  the  high-chair 
and  closed  her  eyes  contentedly  as  the  first  notes  of 
the  Moonlight  Sonata  sounded.  Marion,  who  had 
shared  her  restlessness,  listened  with  delight  as  the 
music  flowed  on,  the  exquisite  quality  of  touch  and 
feeling  giving  new  charm  to  the  familiar  friend. 

"  Oh>  g°  on>"  sne  begged,  as  a  pause  came,  and 
Eleanor  went  on,  weaving  snatches  of  half-remem 
bered  themes  into  one  scheme,  liquid  and  flowing  as 
a  brook.  The  doors  opened  softly  after  a  time,  and 
Ballantyne  entered  and  took  his  place  silently  in  a 
corner,  followed  soon  by  the  others,  who  came  as 
silently.  Peace  had  descended  as  Eleanor  willed, 
and  for  a  little  while  questions  ceased,  doubt  fled 
away,  and  all  good  became  possible  and  attainable. 

"  You  must  promise  me  to  play  for  the  grand  in 
auguration,  —  the  opening  of  the  Hall,  you  know," 
young  Hetherington  said,  as  she  rose  at  last  and  went 
over  to  the  window.  "  You  half  promised  when  it 
was  first  talked  about.  To-night  settles  it  all,  and 
next  week  we  break  ground." 

"  Anything  you  like,  if  it  is  really  to  begin,"  said 
Eleanor.  "  It  began  to  seem  to  me  as  if  it  were  just 
one  of  the  dreams." 


io4  BALLANTYNE 

"You  will  never  admit  that  I  mean  anything/' 
said  the  young  man,  a  little  sulkily ;  and  Marion,  who 
saw  an  impending  quarrel,  turned  to  Ballantyne,  who 
had  crossed  the  room  and  sat  down  by  her. 

"  I  have  a  favor  to  ask,"  he  said.  "  I  have  told 
my  mother  about  you,  and  she  is  very  eager  to  see 
you.  She  is  a  great  invalid,  you  know,  and  cannot 
come  to  you.  Will  you  go  down  with  me  to-morrow 
morning  for  a  day  or  two  ?  She  wishes  much  to  talk 
with  you.  She  has  seen  no  Americans  in  years." 

"  I  will  go,  certainly,"  said  Marion,  "  if  you  are 
sure  she  is  well  enough  to  see  a  stranger." 

"  You  are  not  a  stranger,  as  you  will  soon  find," 
he  said,  after  a  moment.  "She  knew  your  father 
well,  but  we  have  seen  no  old  friends  in  many  years. 
She  has  not  wished  it  till  now.  In  fact,  she  has 
refused  it  altogether,  and  this  wish  is  so  new  that  I 
want  you  to  gratify  it,  even  if  it  include  some  cost 
to  yourself.  I  am  only  fearful  that  it  may  intensify 
her  feeling,  but  that  must  be  as  it  may." 

"  What  feeling  ?  "  asked  Marion,  with  a  little 
wonder  in  her  tone;  but  as  she  spoke  Mr.  Beresford 
came  toward  them,  and  the  evening  ended  with  no 
further  opportunity  for  question.  Marion  puzzled 
a  little  as  to  why  they  had  lived  in  England  all  these 
years,  and  why,  if  her  father  was  so  well  known, 
there  had  been  no  communication  with  him,  and  fell 
asleep  at  last,  with  an  odd  feeling  of  responsibility 
and  guilt,  born  of  the  veiled  reproach  and  question 
in  John  Ballantyne's  eyes. 


Chapter   Eighth 


IF  latent  reproach  had  seemed  the  expression  of 
the   previous  evening,  something  more   puz 
zling  took  its  place  as  they  neared  Badgeley. 
They   had    breakfasted    together  early,   since 
Mr.  Norris  went  to  business  as  regularly  as  if  that 
and   not   poetry   were   his  calling,  and    Marion   had 
driven  to  Cheyne  Walk,  to  charge  Polly  to  keep  her 
clay    wet,    and    then    in    hot    haste    to    Paddington. 
Their  talk   had   been  a  continuation  of  that  begun 
at  the  breakfast  table,  as  to  what  share  beauty  had  or 
must  have  in  the  every-day  working  life,  and  passed 
on  to  many  things  born  of  the  same  thought. 

"  He  means  to  attack  me  about  America,"  Marion 
thought,  as  they  took  the  train  down,  and  prepared  to 
defend  her  standpoint,  rather  resenting  his  silence  as 
they  went  on.  She  looked  at  him  curiously,  wonder 
ing  how  his  feeling  had  grown,  or  why  any  one  in  the 
midst  of  this  fair  English  landscape,  with  its  atmos 
phere  of  abounding  prosperity  and  well-being,  could 
turn  to  the  America  she  knew,  as  a  land  better  worth 
loving  and  living  for. 

"  London  ?  Yes,  London,  it  is  true,  holds  all 
misery  \  but  London  is  not  England.  This  is  the 


io6  BALLANTYNE 

real  England,"  she  thought.  As  if  to  answer  it, 
John  Ballantyne  began  to  tell  her  of  the  life  in 
the  little  towns  through  which  they  passed,  and 
she  listened  and  looked,  and  declared  that  in  such 
surroundings,  real  suffering,  save  that  born  of  wilful 
improvidence  or  crime,  was  forever  impossible.  At 
intervals  as  they  talked,  Marion,  as  she  turned  from 
the  window,  found  his  eyes  fixed  on  her  with  a  look 
so  wistful  that  she  became  lost  in  wonder  as  to  its 
meaning,  and  at  last  even  tempted  to  ask. 

"  One  would  say  he  had  something  he  wished  to 
ask  and  knew  he  must  not,"  she  thought.  "  It  is 
like  the  story  of  some  enchanted  prince  who  cannot 
speak  till  the  right  moment  comes.  It  is  certainly 
something  more  than  my  iniquitous  views  about 
America.  He  looks  as  if  he  were  a  judge  with 
power  of  life  and  death,  and  yet  it  is  all  quite 
impersonal.  I  wish  I  dared  ask,  but  I  certainly 
do  not." 

Why  she  did  not  was  hardly  less  puzzling  than 
the  look,  since  to  her  frank  simplicity  most  questions 
were  easy.  But  with  this  wistfulness  she  felt  another 
quality,' —  a  reserve  that  made  a  personal  question  al 
together  impossible,  —  and  she  put  away  the  wish. 
The  sense  of  expectancy  which  had  been  the  under 
lying  element  in  all  this  new  life  deepened.  With  it 
came  a  conviction  that  new  and  sharp  experience 
was  near,  and  as  they  drove  through  the  old  street, 
one  of  the  oldest  and  most  picturesque  she  had  seen 
in  England,  she  strove  in  vain  to  pay  attention  to  her 


BALLANTYNE  107 

companion's  words  as  he  pointed  out  the  artists'  fa 
vorite  bits. 

They  had  passed  an  old  Norman  church,  set  in 
softly  rolling  meadows,  with  here  and  there  a  group 
of  trees,  the  river  winding  through  them,  and  at 
the  north  the  chalk  hills  of  Oxfordshire,  with  their 
growth  of  larch  and  beech.  At  the  left  rose  a  great 
manor-house  with  spreading  wings  and  Elizabethan 
front,  with  deep  woods  at  the  back,  above  which  rose 
the  smoke  of  the  omnipresent  factory,  less  intrusive 
here  than  in  the  towns  through  which  they  had 
passed,  but  still  making  its  place  evident.  But 
as  they  crossed  the  little  bridge  over  the  broad 
brook  flowing  peacefully  toward  the  Thames,  pay 
ing  the  heavy  toll  demanded  by  a  blear-eyed  old  man 
who  appeared  to  rise  suddenly  out  of  the  ground,  the 
last  trace  of  modern  life  was  left  behind. 

The  old  street  was  lined  with  low  brick  and  stucco 
houses,  thatch-roofed,  moss-grown,  vine-covered,  and 
had  been  the  old  street  in  the  days  when  Elizabeth  her 
self  passed  through  it.  No  less  ancient  was  the  inn 
by  the  river,  and  the  houses  that  farther  on  took  the 
place  of  the  cottages,  though  larger,  were  of  the  same 
order.  With  each  and  all  time,  wind,  and  weather 
had  worked  their  will,  but  every  rent  or  fissure  of 
the  trio  nature  had  hastened  to  take  in  charge  and 
make  good  ;  a  patch  of  lichen  here,  a  mat  of  thick- 
growing  ivy  there,  and  all  soft  tones  of  velvety 
browns  and  greens,  charming  and  soothing  the  eyes 
that  rested  on  them. 


io8  B  A  L  L  A  N  T  Y  N  E 

"  Our  house  is  big,  but  only  a  magnified  cottage 
after  all.  Here  it  is,  and  I  hope  you  are  not  very 
tired,"  Ballantyne  said,  as  he  turned  off  from  the 
street,  which  broadened  here  into  a  little  common 
over  which  some  geese  walked  peacefully.  A  boy 
opened  the  door,  showing  a  broad  entrance  hall, 
low-ceiled,  and  with  an  oaken  stairway  black  with 
age  at  the  end.  In  the  background  stood  a  middle- 
aged  woman  who  came  forward  at  once. 

"  This  is  Mrs.  Price,  the  housekeeper,"  said  Bal 
lantyne,  "  and  she  will  show  you  your  room." 

"  I  'm  to  take  you  there  at  once,  and  Mrs.  Ballan 
tyne  will  see  you  as  soon  as  you  are  ready,  Miss 
Lacy,"  she  said,  with  a  curtsey  and  a  pleased  look  at 
Marion's  face.  "  Mr.  John  wired  down  before  you 
left,  and  Mrs.  Ballantyne  is  very  anxious  to  see 
you." 

"  I  shall  be  quite  ready  in  a  moment  or  two," 
Marion  said,  following  her  guide  up  the  stairs,  with 
their  thick  and  soundless  rivulet  of  carpet  in  the 
centre,  to  a  room  sweet  with  the  scent  of  apple  blos 
soms  blown  through  the  open  window.  She  threw 
off  her  hat,  stopping  only  for  a  glance  into  the  old 
garden,  on  the  wall  of  which  a  tame  jackdaw  was 
walking  up  and  down,  cocking  his  head  to  one  side, 
and  calling  loudly,  to  the  intense  aggravation  of  a 
small  spaniel  which  barked  below.  A  tap  came  at 
the  door  as  she  turned,  and  a  quiet,  elderly  woman 
appeared. 

"  It  is  Price,  Mrs.   Ballantyne's  own  maid  and  my 


BALLANTYNE  109 

sister-in-law,"  said  the  housekeeper,  as  if  to  explain 
the  similarity  of  name.  "  It  is  almost  one  family,  for 
my  daughter  is  parlor  maid,  and  my  sister  the  cook ; 
but  Mrs.  Ballantyne  likes  it  so.  Will  you  go  in  now, 
Miss  Lacy  ?  " 

Marion  followed  silently  through  various  passages, 
each  closed  by  double  doors.  Boundlessness  seemed 
the  demand  everywhere.  The  house  was  even 
breathlessly  quiet,  the  thick  carpets  giving  back  no 
echo  of  footfall ;  and  when  Price  opened  first  one  door 
and  then  another,  and  lifted  a  heavy  portiere,  Marion 
felt  that  only  a  dungeon  deep  below  ground  could 
meet  the  need  implied  in  such  precautions. 

The  flood  of  light  in  the  room,  or  what  seemed  so 
by  contrast  with  the  shadowy  way  thither,  amazed 
her.  The  wing  built  out .  into  the  old  garden  had 
latticed  windows  on  all  sides  thrown  wide  to  the  sun, 
which  at  that  moment  was  shining  with  most  un- 
English  brilliancy,  sifting  through  the  apple  leaves  and 
blossoms  of  the  tree  whose  branches  were  close  against 
the  southern  windows,  and  making  an  illuminated 
background  for  the  figure  that  lay  there,  shrouded  in 
white  drapery,  on  the  great  sofa  drawn  close  to  them. 
Marion  paused  suddenly  and  stood  quite  silent. 

"  It  is  the  spirit  of  the  snow,"  she  thought,  the 
white  hair  lying  loose  about  the  brow,  the  face  as 
white,  the  mass  of  snowy  drapery  all  strengthening 
the  fancy,  and  only  the  clear,  sorrowful  eyes  giving 
any  sense  of  life  or  color. 

"  I  am   quite  alive,"   a  voice  hardly  more  than  a 


no  BALLANTYNE 

whisper  said,  a  shadowy  smile  crossing  the  face. 
"Come  closer,  and  you  will  believe  it  then." 

She  put  out  a  hand  transparent  and  unreal  as  all  the 
rest,  and  Marion  took  it  and  sat  down  beside  her, 
smiling  as  she  met  the  intense,  inquiring  look,  but  too 
much  under  the  spell  for  any  words. 

"  That  will  do,  Price,"  Mrs.  Ballantyne  said.  "  I 
will  ring  for  you  when  you  are  needed.  I  shall  not 
want  anything  for  a  long  time." 

Price  lingered  for  a  moment  as  if  a  little  uncertain 
what  Marion's  course  might  be,  and  looked  back 
doubtfully  as  she  left  the  room. 

"I  am  only  a  ghost,  I  know,"  Mrs.  Ballantyne 
said  then,  "  but  if  you  look  at  me  like  that  I  shall 
feel  that  I  have  not  even  a  ghost's  right  among  the 
living." 

"Forgive  me,"  Marion  said,  with  sudden  self- 
reproach.  "  It  seemed  as  if  a  breath  would  blow  you 
quite  away,  but  your  hand  is  warm  ;  you  are  not  a 
snow-wreath,  though  you  look  like  one." 

"You  are  a  true  Lacy,"  Mrs.  Ballantyne  said, 
after  a  silence  in  which  she  had  made  no  reply,  but 
held  fast  to  Marion's  warm  young  hand  as  if  strength 
were  flowing  from  it  to  her.  "  I  can  see  your  grand 
father's  face,  and  your  father's  as  well,  though  his 
eyes  and  yours  came  from  his  mother.  Do  you  know 
why  I  ventured  to  send  for  you  ?  It  is  not  as  if  you 
were  a  stranger.  That  you  cannot  be,  for  I  was  your 
father's  first  fancy.  Only  a  fancy.  I  was  just  en 
gaged  then,  and  he  did  not  know  it,  but  we  were 


BALLANTYNE  in 

always  better  instead  of  worse  friends  afterward. 
You  are  wondering  why  you  have  never  seen  nor 
heard  of  us  in  all  these  years,  and  you  have  the  right. 
You  will  understand  when  I  have  told  you  a  little. 
You  will  not  mind  ? " 

"  No,"  Marion  said. 

"  Then  I  will  tell  you  now  —  at  once  —  all  I  can. 
Each  attack  leaves  me  a  little  nearer  the  end.  It 
must  be  very  soon  now.  When  John  told  me  of 
you  and  what  you  had  said,  for  he  tells  me  everything, 
so  that  I  may  still  feel  that  I  have  some  place  in  life, 
I  knew  that  you  could  help ;  that  you  had  been  sent. 
You  must  help.  Your  father  would  wish  it.*' 

"  I  will  surely,  if  I  can,"  said  Marion,  after  a  pause 
in  which  the  eyes  seemed  to  search  her  through  and 
through. 

u  I  know  it,"  the  faint  voice  went  on.  "  It  may 
seem  selfish,  perhaps,  but  I  am  not  selfish,  I  think. 
It  is  not  for  myself  I  have  chosen  this  life,  but 
because  insight  was  given  me,  and  I  knew  better 
things  were  for  us  here  than  in  America.  At  first  I 
have  to  grant  it  must  have  been  selfishness.  To 
think  even  of  the  sea,  meant  a  terror  so  deadly  that 
nerves  quivered  and  blood  froze.  And  John  shared 
it  then.  He  will  not  speak  of  it,  and  after  that 
night  in  which  he  promised  me  never  to  cross  it 
while  I  lived,  we  said  no  more,  for  there  was  no 
more  need. 

"  I  came  here  at  once.  There  were  friends  who 
told  us  of  it,  and  here  I  have  lived  in  all  his  years  at 


ii2  BALLANTYNE 

school  and  at  Oxford.  Not  the  wreck  you  see  me 
now,  but  alive  and  eager  as  he,  though  always  with 
that  horror  of  the  past  in  the  background.  I  know 
that  you  know  it,  and  I  shall  not  talk  of  it.  I  loved 
this  life.  It  has  all  the  repose  and  settledness  that 
American  life  has  never  known  and  never  can  know. 
It  has  always  seemed  natural,  and  as  if  I  had  returned 
to  my  own.  There  was  never  any  sense  of  caste 
or  dividing  lines,  for  Americans  are  not  judged  by 
that  standard,  and  I  have  lived  here  year  after  year, 
content  save  for  my  one  terror.  I  knew  that  John 
would  be  true  to  his  promise,  but  as  he  grew,  more 
and  more  he  remembered  and  brooded  and  longed  for 

o 

what  he  called  freer  life.  I  have  been  careful  never 
to  urge  this  one  upon  him,  since  in  any  case  he  was 
pledged  to  it ;  but  each  year  it  has  been  my  anguish  to 
see  that  he  revolted  more  and  more,  and,  no  matter 
what  work  opened  to  him,  could  never  be  content. 
He  said  often  till  the  time  came,  that  he  ceased  to 
speak  of  it,  that  sorrow  and  terror  had  warped  my 
judgment,  and  that  if  I  could  once  force  myself  to 
cross  the  sea,  all  would  be  different.  When  he  was 
twenty-one  he  implored  me  to  release  him  from  his 
promise. 

"  l  It  is  all  wrong,'  he  said.  c  I  a  man,  alien  here 
and  homesick,  and  longing  for  my  real  place.  You 
must  release  me.'  1 1  cannot,  I  must  not,'  I  said. 
c  It  is  death  for  both  of  us  to  cross  that  sea  again. 
Be  content  with  your  place  here.  You  have  every 
thing  but  that  one  thing,  that  you  will.  Put  away  the 


BALLANTYNE  113 

thought  once  for  all.'  He  had  no  answer,  but  I 
knew  he  did  not. 

"  I  had  avoided  Americans  always.  It  was  easy 
here,  but  when  we  went  up  to  London  difficult,  for 
they  are  everywhere.  John  sought  them  out ;  talked 
with  them  ;  puzzled  over  the  different  orders  ;  won 
dered  why  so  few  comprehended  their  birthright, —  and 
I  listened  to  him,  because  I  would  not  have  him  feel  I 
could  not.  He  sent  for  photographs  of  every  spot  he 
remembered  as  a  child.  He  studied  American  his 
tory  with  a  sort  of  passion.  He  knows  every  family 
tradition  ;  every  characteristic  of  each  member  of  it 
remaining.  I  had  begun  to  despair.  I  knew  his  one 
wish  was  for  release,  and  I  could  not  release  him. 
And  now  my  aid  has  come." 

She  stopped  and  lifted  herself  on  the  pillows,  still 
holding  Marion's  hand  firmly. 

"  My  heart  leaped  up  when  he  told  me  of  your 
face,  and  that  you  had  left  America  because  you 
loathed  it.  You  had  mind.  You  knew  what  words 
meant,  and  could  tell  him.  I  saw  then  the  one  thing 
that  may  help  to  hold  him  here,  where  he  belongs  : 
yes,  belongs,  for  every  nerve  of  my  body  and  power 
of  my  soul  have  gone  into  this  soil,  this  home,  and 
woven  bands  to  hold  him  here.  It  is  death  that  waits 
for  him  if  he  forsakes  it.  Now  will  you  help  me  ?  " 

"  How  ?  "  said  Marion,  faintly.  It  seemed  as  if  a 
conspiracy  were  forming  ;  an  unholy  compact  waiting 
her  signature. 

"  Make  him  see  what  I  see,"  the  low  voice  went 


ii4  BALLANTYNE 

on.  "  You  will  know  him  well ;  better,  I  think,  than 
any  one  has  known  him  except  myself.  I  am  sure  of 
this,  for  many  things  are  made  plain  to  me  now. 
Help  me  to  keep  him  on  this  side  of  the  sea.  Prom 
ise  me  that  you  will  use  whatever  power  you  may 
have  to  this  end.  Promise  me." 

"  I  cannot !  "  cried  Marion,  with  a  sudden  gasp  as 
if  a  cold  hand  had  closed  about  her  throat.  "  I  can 
not.  What  right  have  I  to  touch  his  life  ?  " 

"Your  right  is  coming  in  knowledge  of  him. 
You  will  have.  You  will  have." 

"  Then  I  must  wait.  I  will  not  fight  destiny  nor 
anticipate  it.  I  must  not." 

"  Promise  me  only,  then,  that  you  will  be  on  my 
side.  That  you  will  make  him  see  how  poor  a  thing 
it  is  he  worships." 

"  That  I  can  promise,"  Marion  said,  after  a  pause 
in  which  she  strove  to  collect  herself. 

"  I  shall  trust  you ;  and  now  that  is  all,"  Mrs. 
Ballantyne  said,  with  a  sudden  change  of  tone.  "  I 
shall  not  speak  of  it  again.  It  is  you  who  must  for 
give  me  now.  But  all  this  had  to  be  said  in  our 
beginning.  Are  you  willing  to  put  it  all  away  and 
stay  with  me  for  a  little  ?  " 

The  strained,  eager  look  had  gone.  The  sweet, 
shadowy  smile  flitted  over  the  face  as  she  patted 
Marion's  cheek,  and  then  put  out  her  hand  to  the  jack 
daw,  which  had  been  looking  in  inquiringly  from  the 
apple-tree,  and  now  with  sudden  flirts  of  tail  and  much 
cocking  of  head  to  one  side  and  another,  advanced  by 


BALLANTYNE  115 

short  flights  and  hops  till  he  attained  the  sofa.  Here, 
standing  on  the  head,  he  took  a  curl  of  the  white  hair 
in  his  beak  as  if  for  caress,  and  then  proceeded  to 
pull  bits  of  wool  from  the  fluffy  Shetland  shawl 
thrown  over  her.  Marion's  eyes  had  filled  with  tears 
from  the  sharp  tension  of  feeling,  and  a  sense  even 
of  resentment  that  such  a  burden  had  been  laid  upon 
her. 

"  It  is  purest  monomania,"  she  thought.  "  And 
all  must  bend  to  her  will.  It  is  frightful  that  any 
man  should  be  forced  to  renounce  his  freedom  for 
such  a  cause.  She  would  bind  every  one  near  her  by 
a  sort  of  spell.  It  is  either  lunacy  or  the  purest,  most 
refined  selfishness,  and  some  day  I  shall  tell  her  so." 

She  rose  and  went  to  the  window  for  a  moment, 
burying  her  face  in  the  apple  blossoms ;  a  breath  it 
seemed  from  the  sturdy,  wind-beaten  trees  in  grand 
father's  garden  at  Nantucket. 

"  It 's  all  right,  my  pet,"  she  seemed  to  hear  him 
say.  "  It 's  all  right ;  "  and  with  a  sudden  uplifting 
of  spirit  she  turned  back  to  the  couch,  and  sat  there 
listening  to  the  talk  in  which  Jacko  took  an  almost 
human  share.  As  she  sat,  the  impression  of  the  first 
hour  wore  away.  Interests  of  every  order  had  their 
place  here.  The  talk  was  full  of  charm,  nor  had  it 
a  trace  of  morbidity.  Mrs.  Ballantyne  laughed  now 
and  then  ;  the  shadow  of  a  laugh,  it  is  true,  but  as 
sweet  as  her  smile,  and  one  needed  not  to  ask  how  or 
why  she  had  such  power  with  her  son. 

"  It  is  lunch  time,"  she  said  presently,  "  and  I  will 


n6  BALLANTYNE 

ring  for  Price  to  take  you  down.  You  will  find 
Mrs.  Earnshaw  in  the  dining-room,  —  the  rector's 
wife,  and  one  of  the  dearest  and  most  valued  of  our 
neighbors.  She  takes  my  place  for  me  sometimes 
when  I  am  unable  to  go  down,  but  that  is  not  so 
often  as  you  think.  By  to-morrow,  perhaps,  or 
certainly  next  day,  I  shall  be  in  my  own  place." 

She  had  touched  the  bell  as  she  spoke,  and  Price 
appeared,  casting  an  inquiring  look  at  Marion,  and 
apparently  satisfied  with  the  result.  A  look  of  even 
greater  relief  was  on  Ballantyne's  face  as  she  de 
scended  the  stairs  slowly,  looking  at  the  carved  rail 
and  meeting  his  eyes  with  a  smile. 

"  It  is  a  fascinating  house,"  she  said,  "  only  a  trifle 
uncanny,  it  is  so  absolutely  soundless.  The  walls 
seem  thick  as  those  of  any  old  castle." 

"  That  is  a  peculiarity  of  Badgeley  houses,"  he 
said.  u  Mrs.  Earnshaw  will  tell  you  that  the  rectory 
walls  are  even  thicker  than  ours,  and  the  manor-house 
than  either.  Mrs.  Earnshaw,  this  is  Miss  Lacy, 
American,  and  partly  a  cousin,  but  so  nearly  Angli 
cized  she  rejects  the  name." 

"  It  is  much  the  same,  after  all,"  said  the  stout 
matron,  who  came  forward  with  a  face  beaming 
good  will,  shaking  Marion's  hand  heartily,  but  with 
an  inflection  in  her  voice  that  said  plainly,  "  It  is  not 
the  same  at  all."  "We  have  had  our  day  of  mis 
understandings,  and  now  you  are  all  coming  home  again. 
I  hope  you  are  hungry,  my  dear,"  she  added,  with  a 
look  at  Marion's  cheek,  still  pale  from  excitement. 


BALLANTYNE  117 

"  All  you  Americans  lack  color  a  little,  but  really  you 
look  more  English  than  American,  and  John,  here,  is 
right.  We  can  claim  you,  and  we  shall." 

"  I  wish  Horatia  were  here  to  help,"  said  their 
host ;  "  but  you  have  not  a  daughter  left.  Imag 
ine,  Miss  Lacy ;  seven  daughters,  and  every  one 
married  !  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Earnshaw,  as  if  this  were 
quite  the  usual  order  in  households  of  English 
daughters,  and  turning  toward  the  dining-room.  "I 
will  not  say  I  did  not  expect  it,  for  why  should  I  ? 
Good  girls,  every  one  of  them,  each  one  prettier  than 
the  last,  and  with  plenty  of  common  sense.  What 
else  could  happen  ?  Now,  my  mind  is  quite  free  for 
the  rest  of  the  parish.  Indeed  it  always  was  so,  my 
dear,  for  I  never  worried  over  the  girls.  It  was  true 
love  matches  I  wanted  for  them,  like  my  own,  and  no 
other ;  and,  thank  God,  every  one  was  that.  It 's  only 
when  money  and  place  come  first  that  love  can't  get 
in,  and  I  've  no  room  in  my  plan  for  such  ways  with 
life.  'T  would  have  been  the  same  with  a  son,  that 
I  never  had.  John,  here,  comes  nearest  to  it.  I  've 
a  free  mind  for  all  in  my  way  now,  and  indeed  all 
come  into  it  sooner  or  later." 

"  Naturally,"  Marion  said  with  a  little  smile,  that 
completed  the  conquest  already  begun.  Mrs.  Earn 
shaw  looked  at  her  radiantly,  as  she  rambled  on 
through  lunch,  which  Marion  to  her  surprise  found 
herself  enjoying,  and  when  it  ended,  led  her  to  the 
west  window,  which  looked  out  upon  a  little  lawn, 


n8  BALLANTYNE 

across  which  one  saw  a  garden  and  a  low  stone 
house. 

"There  is  the  rectory,"  Mrs.  Earnshaw  said, 
"  where  I  was  brought  and  set  down  thirty  years  ago, 
in  terror  of  my  life  you  might  say,  because  of  the 
Queen,  and  right  through  that  gap  in  the  hedge  is 
how  we  come  and  go.  Just  beyond  is  Anastasia's, 
my  third  daughter,  and  a  heavy  name  for  a  gay  girl  to 
carry.  It 's  not  her  fault  indeed,  nor  mine,  but  the 
Queen's,  that  would  have  her  way  with  one,  and  Mr. 
Earnshaw  felt  I  must  submit.  You  must  see  the 
house.  It  was  an  oatmeal-mill  next  the  cottage,  and 
the  store-chamber  was  just  the  thing  for  an  artist  who 
settled  here  in  spite  of  the  Queen,  for  Anastasia 
married  one." 

"  But  why  should  an  artist  be  stored,  and  what  has 
the  Queen  to  do  with  it  ?  "  asked  Marion,  more  and 
more  bewildered  at  the  complication  that  beset  her. 

Mrs.  Earnshaw  turned  from  the  window  and  led 
her  toward  the  drawing-room,  laughing  as  she  went. 
"  My  dear,  I  'm  Irish,"  she  said.  "  North  of  Ireland, 
with  a  dash  of  Scotch,  and  that 's  one  reason  the 
Queen  sulked  so  long  with  Mr.  Earnshaw,  till  she 
found  I  had  no  fear  of  her,  and  then  she  came  to 
like  it.  But  you  have  n't  had  time  to  find  out  that 
all  Badgeley-on-Thames  belongs  to  her,  —  this  one 
woman  that  owns  every  stick  and  stone  and  soul  and 
body  from  the  minute  you  cross  the  bridge.  Four 
hundred  years  she 's  had  her  way ;  what  am  I  saying  ? 
though,  indeed,  there  's  a  look  about  her  that  might 


BALLANTYNE  119 

mean  she'd  been  here  a  thousand.  But  four  hun 
dred  years  this  one  family  has  ruled,  and  she,  since 
she  was  seventeen,  and  now  she  's  ninety-three,  with 
a  back  as  straight  as  yours,  and  a  tall  stick  like 
a  fairy  godmother  and  eyes  like  coals.  There  she 
lives  in  the  manor-house,  with  a  retinue  about  her, 
and  folk  kiss  her  hand,  and  get  out  of  the  room  back 
wards,  and  what  more  has  majesty  ?-— and  not  a 
stone  has  been  stirred  nor  a  change  made  in  the 
parish  since  she  came  to  her  throne  seventy-six 
years  gone,  a  slip  of  a  girl  seventeen  years  old, 
and  my  husband  not  born  nor  thought  of.  'T  was 
her  father  called  her  Queen  of  Badgeley,  and  people 
took  it  up,  though  I  stick  to  Lady  Anne,  and  will 
save  for  my  daughter.  Lady  Anne  Heathcote  it  is, 
and  yon  's  Heathcote  Manor." 

"This  is  delightful,"  said  Marion.  "And  now 
tell  me  why  you  stored  the  artist.  Would  n't  the 
Queen  allow  him  in  sight  ? " 

"  Not  if  she  could  have  had  her  way,  in  spite  of 
knowing  well,  if  telling  would  do  it,  that  he  had 
talent  and  more,  for  it 's  famous  he  's  getting.  But 
she  's  no  room  for  them  that  work  with  their  hands, 
save  as  she  likes  them  to  do  her  bidding  and  reverence, 
and  there's  a  tinge  of  that  in  Mr.  Earnshaw  even, 
bless  him,  that  counts  the  Army  and  the  Navy  and 
the  Church  the  only  places  for  gentlemen,  and  bears 
just  to  admit  that  the  Law  has  had  one  now  and  then. 
But  Grantham  Wallis  would  have  Anastasia,  and 
small  blame  to  him,  and  we  had  the  lease  of  the 


120  BALLANTYNE 

cottage,  and  the  oatmeal-mill  with  it,  just  to  hinder 
bother,  and  he  made  the  chamber  into  studio,  and  a 
bridge  across  to  his  own  bedroom,  and  a  door  out, 
before  ever  the  Queen  took  it  in,  that  it  was  doing 
and  done,  and  then,  because  of  Anastasia,  she  said 
less  than  we  looked  for.  You  shall  see  it  all,  but 
now  you  must  be  tired,  and  I  '11  leave  you  for  a 
nap  or  a  book,  till  five,  and  then  John  will  bring  you 
over  for  a  cup  of  tea,  and  more  tales  that  I  see  you  Jre 
ready  for." 


Chapter   Ninth 


BALLANTYNE  turned  as  Mrs.  Earnshaw's 
comfortable  figure  disappeared  through  the 
gap- 
"  There  is  an  amendment  to  that,"  he 
said.     "  You  look  especially  wide  awake  and  not   in 
the   least   ready  for   a  nap.      How  would  you   like  a 
turn  on  the  river,  and  then  as  short  an  evening  as  you 
choose  after  dinner,  since  by  that  time  you  will  be 
really  tired?" 

Marion's  eyes  lighted. 

"  The  one  thing  that  is  best  of  all.    May  I  row  ?  " 

"  If  you  like." 

"  Then  I  will  make  ready  for  it.  It  was  in 
spiration  that  made  me  put  in  my  rowing  dress, 
but  I  can  never  bear  to  be  without  it." 

"Then  you  can  really  manage  a  boat  ?  " 

"  Wait  and  see,"  said  Marion  with  a  laugh,  as  she 
ran  up  the  stairs,  reappearing  speedily  in  the  dark-blue 
boating  costume,  the  looseness  of  which  had  outraged 
every  feeling  of  its  London  maker. 

"  Let  me  do  it  all,"  she  begged,  as  they  came  to 
the  end  of  the  little  path  leading  by  the  old  inn, 
whose  upper  casements  overhung  the  river ;  and 


122  BALLANTYNE 

Ballantyne,  after  a  moment  or  two,  decided  she  had 
spoken  advisedly,  and  gave  himself  up  to  the  enjoy 
ment  of  watching  her  eager  pleasure.  For  the  time, 
every  thought  of  the  morning  had  dropped  out  of 
sight. 

"  You  shall  steer,"  she  said,  "  till  I  make  up  my 
mind  to  resign  the  oars  ;  "  and  then  she  pulled,  with 
the  long  steady  stroke  learned  long  ago  from  grand 
father,  the  color  coming  to  her  cheeks,  and  her  eyes 
full  of  content.  Here  and  there  the  river  broadened 
slightly,  a  tiny  alder-fringed  bay,  or  a  broad,  still 
expanse.  The  sun,  veiled  only  with  delicate  cloud, 
hardly  more  than  a  faint  mist,  shone  warm  and  bright. 
Not  a  breeze  stirred,  and  every  blade  of  grass,  every 
twig,  was  mirrored  in  the  motionless  water.  Velvet 
turf  swept  to  its  very  edge  as  they  passed  the  pretty 
old  houses.  Then  came  a  house-boat,  still  in  winter 
canvas,  and  another  on  which  workmen  were  putting 
the  summer  touches.  Beyond  was  a  sudden  curve 
and  a  thicket  of  bushes  and  saplings,  and  as  they 
rounded  it  Marion,  who  had  turned  once  or  twice, 
stopped  and  looked  with  delighted  eyes  at  something 
beyond. 

Out  from  a  little  inlet,  swift  and  steady  as  if  blown 
by  unfelt  wind,  sailed  a  swan,  looking  as  if  the  place 
far  and  near  were  his  own  ;  and  as  he  sailed  stately  and 
still,  out  from  some  retreat  in  the  reeds  came  his  mate, 
slenderer  and  less  noble,  but  with  all  his  grace,  and 
curved  her  neck  over  his  whiteness,  and  laid  her 
head  along  it  and  under  it  as  if  it  meant  refreshment. 


BALLANTYNE  123 

They  had  sailed  back  to  the  inlet  before  Marion 
spoke. 

u  How  gloriously  white  they  are !  "  she  said. 
"  Do  you  remember  Lander's  word  about  them  ? 
c  White  doves  are  always  very  white,  indeed,  and 
those  great  water  birds,  to  which  the  angels  by  God's 
order  have  given  the  same  pure  appearance,  feel  a 
pleasure  in  possessing  it.' ' 

Marion  paused  for  a  moment,  the  look  of  a  reflective 
child  on  her  face,  and  Ballantyne  watched  her  attentively. 

"  There  is  a  great  deal  to  be  said  for  the  black 
ones,  too,"  she  went  on  suddenly,  as  if  justice  to  the 
blacks  were  imperative.  "  Do  you  know  that  a  black 
swan  is  really  beautiful  ?  I  remember  two  at  home. 
There  are  distinct  advantages  in  being  a  black  swan, 
and  they  are  not  shared  by  the  white  ones.  In  the 
first  place,  you  see,  the  dust  which  makes  the  white 
ones  look  very  dirty,  shines  like  silver  powder  on  the 
plumes  of  the  black  ones.  Then  the  water  which 
deadens  the  lustre  of  the  white  plumage,  only  makes 
the  other  more  satiny  and  beautiful.  The  white 
swan  has  a  bill  of  orange,  which  is  ugly.  The  black 
one  has  a  rose-colored  bill,  with  eyes  to  match,  and 
they  look  like  rubies  held  up  to  the  sun.  When  the 
black  fellow  ruffles  up  his  feathers  you  see  beautiful, 
charcoaly,  watered-silky  waves  tinged  with  iridescent 
hues,  while  the  white  one  is  only  just  white.  How 
ever,  he  is  at  his  best  when  he  also  ruffles  up.  On 
the  whole,  which  would  you  rather  be,  a  black  swan 
or  a  white  one  ?  " 


i24  BALLANTYNE 

Marion  looked  up  seriously. 

"  The  black  ;  by  all  means  the  black,"  he  said, 
unhesitatingly. 

"  No,  you  should  wish  to  be  the  white.  They  are 
the  most  stainless  of  all  God's  creatures.  I  love  them. 
Think  how  that  hoarse  croak  of  theirs  must  afflict 
them,  knowing  what  they  were  really  born  to,  and  that 
nothing  but  death  can  give  them  their  right  to  song." 

"  That  is  true  for  more  than  your  swans,"  Ballan- 
tyne  said,  as  she  began  to  row  again.  "  It  is  the  word 
that  says  itself  in  every  slum,  when  you  look  at  those 
defrauded  faces.  Even  in  lives  with  larger  hopes  it  is 
true,  too." 

Marion  was  silent.  The  memory  of  the  morning 
had  come  again,  and  she  did  not  want  to  think  or 
speak  of  it  yet.  She  rowed  on,  but  the  spell  was 
broken,  and  she  laid  down  the  oars  suddenly. 

"  It  is  your  turn  now,"  she  said.  "  I  think  I  am 
a  little  tired,  after  all,"  and  took  her  place  at  the  rud 
der.  Here  talking  was  less  easy,  and  she  simply 
watched  the  banks  as  they  went  down.  She  would 
have  gone  directly  to  her  room  had  time  allowed,  but 
barely  enough  remained  to  dress  and  cross  the  lawn 
to  the  rectory,  the  low  drawing-room  of  which  was 
sweet  with  flowers,  which  lightened  the  sombre  effect 
of  the  dark  wainscoting.  Mrs.  Earnshaw  sat  there 
beaming  before  her  kettle  and  cups. 

"  It 's  all  the  same,  you  see,"  she  cried.  "  We 
cannot  be  modern  if  we  would,  and  the  modern  bits 
that  will  creep  in  look  as  if  they  had  no  kinship. 


BALLANTYNE  125 

Here  is  my  daughter  Mrs.  Wallis,  and  here  comes 
Mr.  Earnshaw." 

Marion  received  a  cordial  greeting  from  the 
daughter,  a  slender  duplicate  of  the  mother,  and 
looked  with  interest  at  the  dark,  serious,  courtly  man 
who  came  forward  quietly  and  gave  her  his  hand. 
How  had  he  and  this  irrepressible  wife  lived  thirty 
years  in  the  harmony  which  it  was  plain  existed,  was 
Marion's  first  thought  ;  and  she  watched  him  as  he 
greeted  John  Ballantyne  kindly,  but  with  a  certain 
reserve,  as  if  there  were  between  them  some  unsettled 
difference. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  leave  you,"  he  said  when  he  had 
drunk  a  cup  of  tea,  with  a  word  or  two  to  Marion  as 
he  brought  her  hers.  "  But  old  Adam  is  much  worse, 
and  has  sent  for  me.  Young  Adam,  with  his  shame 
ful  defiance  of  everything  he  has  been  taught  to 
respect,  is  really  responsible  for  his  grandfather's 
state.  Those  who  have  misled  him  have  much  to 
answer  for." 

His  eyes  rested  severely  on  Ballantyne,  who  appar 
ently  had  not  heard,  and  simply  bowed  as  the  rector 
left  the  room. 

"  You  see  what  you  've  done,  John,"  Mrs.  Earn 
shaw  said,  reproachfully.  "  Mr.  Earnshaw  is  so  stirred 
up  with  the  disturbance  in  the  parish,  and  the  way  the 
Queen  is  in  about  it,  that  I  'm  not  sure  he  would  n't 
imprison  you  all,  you  and  your  tribe  together,  a  bit, 
just  to  keep  the  peace.  Why  will  you  and  Barrows 
do  so  ?  " 


126  BALLANTYNE 

"  What  ?  " 

"  Stir  up  everything  and  make  the  people  discon 
tented.  Young  Adam  was  a  good  workman,  and 
never  a  word  about  drainage  and  such  nonsense  before 
that  Institute  opened  over  the  line,  and  he  began  to 
think  he  knew  more  than  his  betters.  You  are  out 
of  the  Queen's  books  once  for  all,  my  dear,  and  it 's 
a  pity.  Miss  Lacy  must  see  her,  and  she  must  go 
with  me.  I  can  take  you  to-morrow  morning,  my 
dear.  She  likes  to  see  all  that  come  to  me,  and  she 
is  worth  looking  at  indeed.  There 's  none  like 
her." 

"  Yes,  that  is  certainly  one  of  the  Badgeley  expe 
riences,"  he  said,  quietly.  "  That  and  Walter's  studio. 
Both  are  unique." 

"  The  last  you  shall  have  at  once,  Miss  Lacy,  if 
you  're  sure  you  '11  have  no  more  tea,"  said  Mrs. 
Earnshaw,  in  her  motherly  fashion.  "  'T  is  only  a  step 
across  to  the  cottage." 

Ballantyne  had  risen. 

"  Barrows  and  his  sister  dine  with  us  to-day,"  he 
said  ;  "  and  perhaps  Miss  Lacy,  who  is  tired,  had  better 
rest  a  little." 

"  You  've  more  sense  than  me,  John,  and  she  with 
no  color  left,"  said  Mrs.  Earnshaw,  with  solicitude. 
"  A  bit  of  sleep  will  set  you  up  at  once,  if  you  're 
like  me." 

"  I  am  a  little  tired,"  said  Marion,  glad  to  escape 
from  a  certain  tension  which,  if  not  in  the  people, 
seemed  to  be  in  the  air,  and  she  crossed  the  lawn, 


BALLANTYNE  127 

followed  by  her  host,  who  looked  at  her  a  little 
anxiously. 

"  You  have  rowed  too  hard,"  he  said.  "  There 
will  be  a  full  hour  for  quiet,  for  we  dine  at  seven, 
and  Barrows  will  not  be  here  till  then.  You  will 
like  them  both,  though  I  dare  say  you  are  heartily 
tired  of  strangers,  are  you  not  ?  " 

u  I  find  every  one  immensely  kind  and  interesting," 
Marion  said,  and  then  made  her  retreat,  glad  to 
escape  for  a  little.  She  slept  for  a  few  moments ;  a 
sudden  falling  into  deep,  dreamless  silence,  and  a 
waking  as  if  she  had  returned  from  some  familiar 
country  where  rest  abided.  There  was  the  same 
half  consciousness  of  grandfather  bending  over  her 
and  stroking  her  hair,  that  sometimes  came  to  her, 
and  that  always  meant  special  refreshment ;  and  when 
she  woke,  the  weight  that  had  oppressed  her  was 
quite  gone. 

She  had  dressed  when  Price  came  to  the  door  to 
ask  if  she  needed  her,  and  descended  presently  to  the 
drawing-room,  finding  there  a  little  lady,  gray-haired 
and  incisive,  who  had  just  entered  at  the  long  win 
dow  opening  toward  the  rectory. 

"  Brother  will  be  here  in  a  moment,"  she  said, 
as  Ballantyne  came  forward  and  presented  her  to 
Marion,  at  whom  she  looked  with  kindly  but  very 
distinct  scrutiny. 

u  Another  American,"  he  said,  with  a  slight  smile. 
"  Miss  Barrows  does  not  understand  Americans, 
Miss  Lacy,  and  will  probably  demand  some  explana- 


128  BALLANTYNE 

tion.  Ah,  there  you  are,  Barrows,"  he  added,  turn 
ing  heartily  to  a  big,  burly  man,  who  came  across 
the  lawn  with  a  swing,  his  mass  of  red-brown  hair 
flying,  and  his  blue  eyes  gleaming,  half  with  wrath, 
half  with  fun. 

"  I  see  nothing  for  a  place  like  this  but  dynamite," 
he  said.  "  Mrs.  Earnshaw  has  pitched  into  me 
vehemently  on  several  counts.  I  have  perverted 
you,  you  have  perverted  Adam,  therefore  I  have 
perverted  both.  Everything  was  as  it  should  be,  and 
is  as  it  should  n't,  and  I  owe  it  to  the  parish  to  leave 
at  once  and  carry  my  heresies  where  they  will  do 
less  harm.  I  want  dinner  first  and  then  we  will 
decide." 

"  We  will  make  Miss  Lacy  arbiter.  She  is  an 
unprejudiced  judge,"  Ballantyne  said,  as  he  presented 
the  new-comer,  who  looked  at  her  with  interest. 

"  Then  she  has  not  made  up  her  mind,"  he  said. 
"  How  is  that  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  in  what  direction  you  require  it  to 
be  made,"  Marion  said,  as  they  moved  toward  the 
dining-room  and  took  their  places  at  the  round  table, 
with  its  softly  shaded  lights  and  perfect  appointments. 
"  It  is  very  definite  on  some  points,  I  can  assure 
you." 

"  I  shall  ask  you  for  some  of  them  when  the  first 
rage  is  appeased,"  Mr.  Barrows  replied.  "  I  have 
had  a  long  spin  on  the  bicycle,  as  well  as  a  pitched 
battle  at  the  end,  but  even  rage  has  not  spoiled  my 
appetite.  I  could  wish  myself  an  ogre,  and  the 


BALLANTYNE  129 

Queen,  delicately  stewed,   we  will   say,  with    bland 
sauces,  served  up  before  me." 

"  For  shame,  Jack  !  "  said  his  sister.  "  Though, 
to  be  sure,  there  is  no  release  for  the  parish  till  her 
end  comes.  The  strange  thing  is  her  power,  with 
Heading  close  by,  as  modern  as  this  is  ancient,  and 
boiling  over  with  dissent  and  discontent  like  every 
mill-town  everywhere.  But  she  has  had  her  finger 
on  every  man,  woman,  and  child  more  than  seventy 
years,  and  I  often  fancy  she  knows  every  thought  of 
their  minds,  and  every  breath  they  draw.  She  sends 
wine  and  soup  and  jellies  day  after  day  into  these 
cottages,  but  not  a  drain-pipe  shall  be  laid,  nor  a 
floor  over  the  clay  floors  that  cramp  the  old  people 
with  rheumatism,  nor  a  school  allowed  save  a  dame 
school  for  the  little  ones.  It  is  a  leaf  out  of  the 
feudal  system,  and  I  am  the  wiser  for  knowing  it." 

"  Then  you  do  not  live  here  ?  "  Marion  asked. 

"  No,  indeed,  not  I.  I  came  to  my  brother,  who 
chooses  to  think  that  this  is  ground  for  his  propa 
ganda.  He  came  down  and  hired  a  cottage,  —  clay 
floor,  oak  rafters,  and  all,  —  and  is  living  in  it  in  order 
to  demonstrate  that  he  is  one  of  the  people.  He  has 
put  in  some  hooks,  and  has  some  Roman  kettles  and 
odds  and  ends,  testimony  to  his  inward  desire  to 
return,  and  live  with  his  favorite  possessions,  but 
these  are  not  to  be  mentioned.  We  are  Mrs.  Earn- 
shaw's  cousins,  and  as  he  belongs  to  the  fifteenth, 
and  my  brother  to  the  twentieth  century,  it  is  rather 
hard  on  both." 

9 


ijo  BALLANTYNE 

u  What  are  you  preaching  ?  "   Marion  said. 

u  I  ?  I  am  preaching  nothing.  It  is  Jack  who 
does  it.  I  am  hardly  as  revolutionary  as  he,  but  the 
ignorance  of  these  people  has  so  frightful  a  quality, 
that  I  am  in  danger  of  becoming  so.  You  should  be 
glad  that  there  is  no  chance  for  such  experience  in 
America,  and  that  you  are  spared  so  much,  at  least." 

"  Perhaps  not  of  this  particular  order,"  Marion 
said,  "  for  this  seems  quite  out  of  usual  lines,  even 
here.  But  our  castes  are  as  sharply  defined  as  yours, 
and  there  is  unending  struggle  to  wipe  out  dividing 
lines,  and  bring  everything  to  the  equality  which  is,  I 
believe,  the  Socialistic  ideal ;  an  impossible  one,"  she 
added  under  her  breath. 

"  Why  ?  "   said  Miss  Barrows,  sharply. 

u  Because  the  proportion  of  gray  matter  in  the 
brain  determines  that  thing,"  said  Marion ;  "  and  the 
highest  intelligence  will  rule,  and  the  lowest  be  ruled, 
so  long  as  water  follows  its  nature  and  runs  down 
hill." 

u  But  when  intelligence  is  evenly  distributed,  and 
each  man  his  own  ruler,  what  becomes  of  your  law  ?  " 

"  An  impossible  future,"  Marion  repeated.  "  Bru- 
talization  can  cease.  Men  can  have  their  chance, 
and  a  thousand  things  be  given,  denied  them  now ; 
but  the  secret  nerve  fibre  that  means  genius  is  out  of 
your  power,  train  and  work  as  you  will.  This  doc 
trine  of  absolute  equality  is  as  monstrous  as  the  one 
on  the  other  side,  that  sets  the  rich  apart  from  the 
poor  in  two  distinct  classes.  The  truth  lies  between. 


BALLANTYNE  131 

It  is  only  in  humility  that  is  willing  to  learn  patiently 
and  thoroughly,  that  real  life  is  lived.  Your  proposi 
tion  of  equality  ends  that  in  the  beginning." 

"  Evidently  you  are  an  aristocrat,"  said  Miss  Bar 
rows.  "  You  must  have  found  your  ideas  a  little  out 
of  harmony  with  your  environment  at  home." 

"  I  did,"  Marion  answered  quietly  j  "  I  have  come 
to  England  because  I  felt  more  at  home  under  an 
established  order  of  things  than  I  do  in  our  chaos.  I 
may  be  all  wrong,  and  glad  to  change  my  mind  before 
a  year  is  over.  At  present,  in  spite  of  all  the  suffer 
ing  I  am  coming  to  know,  and  my  knowledge  that 
your  reformers  can  hardly  cry  alarm  too  loudly,  I  do 
believe  you  are  living  better  lives  than  we.  What 
ever  our  republic  meant  to  us  in  the  beginning,  it 
seems  to  mean  little  now,  and  an  American  has  less 
and  less  cause  to  boast  of  his  name.  I  am  untrue  to 
my  flag,  you  will  say,  but  at  least  I  am  true  to  truth, 
or  to  what  I  count  as  such." 

Some  inward  impulse  seemed  to  compel  her  words, 
and  she  looked  at  her  host  with  a  half  wonder  why 
they  came  now,  and  if  he  would  rise  in  defence  of  his 
theory.  He  was  quite  silent,  but  any  deficiency  was 
covered  by  Miss  Barrows,  who,  after  an  astonished 
pause,  began  a  series  of  questions  as  to  the  American 
school  system,  and  American  methods  with  children 
in  general,  arraigning  them  so  fiercely  that  Marion, 
after  various  admissions,  found  herself  obliged  to  de 
fend  such  advantages  as  were  bound  up  with  the 
bundle  of  errors. 


132 


B ALLANTYNE 


"  Your  women  are  the  natural  result  of  this  sys 
tem,"  Miss  Barrows  went  on,  calmly  unconvinced  by 
any  of  Marion's  points.  "  I  find  them  very  pretty. 
It  is  singular  how  pretty  they  are,  though  most  of 
them  lack  repose;  but  there  is  no  breadth  of  view, 
and  strange  limitations  of  thought  in  many  ways.  It 
is  a  certain  crudeness  that  I  object  to.  You  will 
pardon  me,  Miss  Lacy,  I  am  simply  seeking  informa 
tion,  and  I  am  determined  to  understand  America,  if 
I  can.  I  should  suppose  the  trouble  is  you  have  no 
scholars,  and  your  rich  are  most  of  them  hopelessly 
vulgar;  that  is,  I  judge  so  by  those  who  travel." 

"  Till  you  have  been  over  to  see  for  yourself  you 
cannot  really  judge,"  said  Marion,  half  amused  and 
half  indignant  at  the  tone  of  rather  pleased  depreci 
ation.  "  We  are  very  crude,  of  course;  but  then  a 
hundred  years  is  not  a  long  life  for  a  nation,  which 
began  with  an  unsubdued  country  and  has  lived 
through  three  wars,  not  counting  the  minor  ones." 

"All  of  them  very  unnecessary,"  interjected  Miss 
Barrows,  decisively. 

"  When  you  do  go  over,"  Marion  went  on,  ignor 
ing  the  remark,  "  I  think  you  will  find  the  scholarly 
element  stronger  than  you  imagine,  and  though  you 
will  miss  the  sense  of  repose,  and  encounter  the  mer 
cantile  spirit  everywhere,  I  doubt  if  it  is  more  keenly 
developed  than  in  shopkeeping  London,  or  in  your 
great  manufacturing  towns." 

"  That  is  what  we  fight,"  said  Miss  Barrows,  dis 
contentedly.  "  But  in  the  meantime  there  is  some- 


BALLANTYNE  133 

thing  better,  while  with  you  the  spirit  rules.  You 
have  no  galleries  nor  museums  ;  no  art,  no  popular 
taste,  no  music.  The  daily  life  is  utterly  barren,  I 
am  told,  and  oia  very  excellent  authority."  Marion 
flushed  slightly. 

"  Naturally,  because  the  English  Puritan  eschewed 
them  all  and  set  the  seal  of  his  barbarism  upon  us  in 
the  beginning.  You  did  not  escape  entirely,  if  the 
traces  of  their  theories  still  to  be  seen  in  your  cathe 
drals  is  to  be  believed.  We  are  just  emerging  from 
that  repression,  and  ready  now  for  whatever  art  can 
do  for  us.  She  has  begun.  We  work  swiftly,  and 
good  work  is  already  understood.  I  can  even  imag 
ine  that  our  result,  in  the  end,  may  be  quite  as  high 
as  yours,  though  naturally  all  of  the  new  school. 
But  the  love  of  beauty  and  the  sense  of  form  and 
color  seem  to  be  keener  with  us  than  with  you,  in 
spite  of  all  this  inheritance  of  beauty  about  you.  We 
cannot  miss  it  in  the  end." 

The  shadow  of  a  smile  flickered  about  John  Bal- 
lantyne's  mouth,  and  vanished. 

"  I  was  told  that  you  were  very  Anglican  in  your 
tendencies,"  said  Mr.  Barrows,  with  a  laugh.  "  But 
evidently  you  have  not  been  understood.  You  will  be 
able  to  define  yourself  to  yourself  on  all  points  when 
you  leave  Anne's  hands,  for  she  gives  her  talent  for 
cross-examination  full  play,  and  she  has  no  hesitation 
in  expressing  her  opinions." 

"  We  all  come  from  the  same  stock,"  said  Marion, 
coloring  a  little,  and  amazed  at  the  undercurrent  of 


134  BALLANTYNE 

indignation  which  had  made  its  flow  felt.  "  It  is  the 
growth  of  the  mercantile  spirit  in  both  countries  that 
is  responsible  for  the  decay  of  art." 

"  Oh,  art,  art !  "  interrupted  Mr.  Barrows,  tem 
pestuously.  "  I  am  sick  to  death  of  this  feeble  wail 
over  the  death  of  art,  as  if  it  meant  manliness  or 
strength  or  courage,  or  any  other  high  virtue.  The 
Spartans  had  no  art,  but  they  have  managed  to  leave 
some  record  behind  them." 

"  A  name  or  two  and  a  great  battle,"  said  Ballan- 
tyne.  "  That  is  all,  and  these  only  for  the  student 
who  knows  history,  while  Greek  art  and  thought  are 
for  eyes  and  soul  in  all  time.  A  few  Englishmen  be 
lieve  this,  and  such  art  spirit  as  is  left  is  due  to  them, 
and  will  be  wiped  out  if  you  Socialists  have  your 
way." 

"  What !  "  cried  Mr.  Barrows,  with  a  shake  of  his 
tawny  mane.  "  You  are  one  of  us.  What  do  you 
mean  by  denying  the  faith  ?  " 

"  I  am  one  of  you,  yes,  up  to  a  certain  point.  I 
am  ready  for  most  of  your  reforms.  But  when  you 
have  killed  monopoly,  shortened  working  hours,  made 
education  a  State  matter,  and  seen  that  a  chance  for 
all  is  certain,  beyond  that  I  will  not  go,  since  I  claim 
the  right  to  my  own  individuality,  and  must  live  my 
life  in  my  own  fashion  secure  from  dictation  from 
the  State.  It  is  because  the  real  art  spirit  includes 
this  individual  liberty — because  there  can  be  no  real 
art  without  it  —  that  I  look  for  its  coming  again  as 
a  part  of  the  new  civilization." 


BALLANTYNE  135 

"  So  far,"  said  Mr.  Barrows,  "  it  has  brought  death 
in  its  train,  and  that  is  all.  There  is  not  a  monument 
of  the  past  whose  cement  is  not  mingled  with  human 
blood  and  tears,  and  whose  foundations  are  not  on 
human  bones.  The  story  of  art  is  the  story  of  out 
rage  and  oppression  from  the  beginning  of  time.  Of 
the  Middle  Ages  with  their  mawkish  saints  and  Ma- 

D 

donnas  it  is  the  record  of  a  superstition  that  has  de 
layed  the  world's  true  progress  hundreds  of  years,  and 
still  delays  it.  Away  with  it  all,  and  let  us  have  a 
clean  start  once  more." 

"  You  scout  the  past,  yet  how  will  you  escape  its 
inheritance  ?  "  his  host  said,  after  a  moment's  silence. 
"  It  is  your  blood  and  bone ;  the  marrow  of  your 
thought.  If  you  wiped  out  every  record  to-morrow, 
you  would  still  remain  what  it  has  made  you." 

"  The  old  battle,"  Miss  Barrows  said,  discon 
tentedly.  "  For  a  man  who  counts  himself  radical, 
you  have  the  most  extraordinary  streaks  of  conserva 
tism,  John.  The  point  is,  to  improve  the  condition 
of  the  people,  and  I  see  no  way  but  to  wipe  out  just 
such  obstacles,  as,  for  instance,  this  good-for-naught 
obstructionist  that  you  call  Queen  of  Badgeley-on- 
Thames." 

"  Wipe  them  all  out,"  began  her  brother,  energeti 
cally  ;  but  at  this  moment  Price  entered,  and,  going 
up  to  Mr.  Ballantyne,  said  something  in  a  low  tone. 

"  My  mother  is  not  so  well,"  he  said,  rising  at 
once.  u  You  will  take  care  of  Miss  Lacy,  Miss 
Barrows,  and  if  I  cannot  return  you  will  understand." 


136  BALLANTYNE 

u  Perfectly,"  Miss  Barrows  said,  with  a  gentler 
look  than  Marion  had  seen  on  her  face.  "  A  son 
among  a  million,"  she  added,  as  he  went  out.  "  He 
worships  the  ground  she  treads,  and  she  does  the  same 
by  him.  They  are  two  lovers,  and  yet  she  has  half 
killed  him." 

"  Because  at  bottom,  call  it  what  fine  names  you 
like,  it  is  cursed  selfishness,"  said  her  brother.  u  You 
need  not  shake  your  head  at  me.  I  admire  Mrs. 
Ballantyne,  and  you  know  it,  but  she  has  been  a 
millstone  about  his  neck." 

"  That  shows  how  much  a  man  can  understand," 
said  Miss  Barrows,  unruffled.  "  Except  for  this  busi 
ness  of  doing  what  he  calls  '  going  home,'  they  are  of 
one  mind.  Why  should  he  go  ?  I  say.  He  thinks 
he  is  American,  but  he  is  English,  and  he  will  find  it 
so  when  he  once  gets  among  those  depressing  Yan 
kees.  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Lacy.  I  cannot 
keep  in  mind  that  you  are  American,  any  more  than 
that  he  is,  for  you  have  not  their  voice  nor  way,  nor 
anything,  but  you  are  just  a  nice  English  girl." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Marion,  with  a  little  flush.  "  But 
I  am  American  all  the  same.  You  do  not  know  us 
yet." 

"  You  and  John  are  enough,"  returned  Miss  Bar 
rows.  "  I  '11  know  no  more  till  I  must.  We  will 
have  our  coffee  in  the  drawing-room,  and  then,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  we  must  go,  for  Jack  has  some  one  to 
see.  Will  you  come  and  look  at  the  cottage  to 
morrow  ?  " 


BALLANTYNE  137 

"  I  am  promised  to  Mrs.  Earnshaw  for  the  morn 
ing,  and  I  go  up  at  noon,"  Marion  began ;  but  Miss 
Barrows  broke  in  : 

"  Oh,  you  will  not  go  at  noon.  Mrs.  Ballantyne 
will  want  you,  and  you  will  stay." 

"  I  think  not,"  Marion  said,  as  they  went  into  the 
drawing-room,  where  Mr.  Barrows  drank  his  coffee 
in  a  preoccupied  way,  the  pair  leaving  immediately. 
Marion  wandered  about  the  room  for  a  time,  played 
a  little,  and  then,  fearing  that  the  sound  might  reach 
the  sick-room,  chose  a  book  from  the  library,  and 
went  to  her  own  room,  with  a  feeling  that  many  days 
had  passed  since  she  came  under  the  new  roof,  and 
had  looked  on  the  white  wraith  who  still  was  called 
its  mistress. 


Chapter    Tenth 


F~~U     ^HREE    weeks  later,  Marion,   rowing    up 

the  river,  with  long  pauses  at  one  and 

another  of  its  fascinating  bends,  stopped 

-^^-  suddenly  as  a  look  toward  the  narrow 

path  winding  down  through  the  meadows  showed  her 

the    familiar  figure  in  gray,  for  which  she  had  had 

more  than  one  longing,  and  Miss  Ryde,  as  she  came 

nearer,  waved  her  umbrella  with  enthusiasm. 

"  Eleanor  gave  me  no  peace,"  she  said  as  Marion, 
who  had  run  her  boat  up  on  the  shore,  sprang  out  and 
went  toward  her,  her  tired  face  full  of  satisfaction. 
u  Your  notes  told  nothing.  Mrs.  Ballantyne  is  a 
leech,  and  you  are  of  the  stuff  that  lends  itself  to  such 
blood-sucking,  and  calls  it c  doing  one's  duty.'  I  have 
run  down  to  find  out  what  the  matter  is,  and  why 
you  do  not  come  back  to  the  place  where  you 
belong." 

"  I  belong  anywhere,  you  know,"  Marion  said, 
holding  Miss  Ryde's  warm,  firm  hand  with  a 
sense  of  strength  and  dependability  that  was  very 
comforting. 

"Fiddle-de-dee!"  said  Miss  Ryde,  energetically. 
u  You  belong  where  you  had  settled  down,  and  where 


BALLANTYNE  139 

there  is  distinct  work  for  you  to  do.  Eleanor  says 
she  believes  now  in  reincarnation,  for  you  have 
come  to  us  so  much  like  our  own  that  you  must 
have  been  so  in  a  previous  state.  I  am  inclined  to 
agree  with  the  child.  We  miss  you.  I  am  come  to 
take  you  back  and  to  blow  a  breath  of  common  sense 
into  this  paralyzed  and  inert  hole.  I  know  it.  I 
have  stayed  here,  heaven  help  me !  You  do  not 
want  to  row  any  more,  do  you  ?  If  you  do,  I  will 
get  in,  and  you  may  take  me  where  you  like.  I 
want  to  talk  with  you." 

u  Then  I  will  row  up  to  the  next  bend,  where 
there  is  an  old  tree  and  a  seat.  You  see  that  I  am 
prepared  for  it.  Here  is  a  rug  and  my  sketch  book, 
and  one  to  read ;  in  short,  everything  I  take  to 
convince  myself  that  I  propose  to  be  employed,  and 
then  leave  unused  from  pure  laziness.  Did  you  ever 
do  so  ?  " 

"  Pure  tiredness,"  repeated  Miss  Ryde  vindictively, 
as  she  took  her  place  facing  Marion,  and  noted  the 
dark  circles  under  her  eyes  and  the  worn  look  of  her 
face.  u  What  do  you  mean  ?  What  does  every 
body  mean  ?  Why  has  n't  John  Ballantyne  sent 
you  home  ?  " 

"  He  is  not  in  the  least  responsible,"  Marion  said, 
quickly.  "  It  is  quite  myself.  I  chose  to  stay 
because  it  seemed  to  comfort  Mrs.  Ballantyne,  and 
because,  —  I  can't  tell  how,  but  I  felt  that  I  must. 
Price  went  up  with  Mr.  Ballantyne,  and  got  every 
thing  that  I  needed,  and  he  even  took  the  trouble 


i4o  BALLANTYNE 

to  bring  down  my  clay,  the  little  figure  I  was  model 
ling,  but  I  have  not  touched  it.  There  is  so  much  to 
do ;  so  many  interests." 

"  Whose?  "  said  Miss  Ryde,  grimly. 

"  Everybody's.  I  seem  to  know  the  whole  village, 
even  to  the  Queen  herself,  who  has  taken  a  violent 
fancy  to  me,  but  persists  in  believing  me  one  of  the 
original  colonists  in  America,  and  a  piece  somehow 
of  the  Revolutionary  War  in  which  her  father  took 
part.  She  upbraids  me  as  if  I  had  begun  it,  and  then 
says,  c  Well,  after  all,  you  are  more  English  than 
American,  if  you  are  a  rebel,  and  now  you  had  better 
stay  where  there  is  law  and  order,  and  learn  your 
duty.' " 

"Humph!"  said  Miss  Ryde.  Marion  looked  at 
her  but  went  on. 

u  She  insists  on  my  going  there  every  day,  and 
inquires,  for  instance,  how  I  dared  to  take  part  in 
anything  so  atrocious  as  throwing  good  tea  overboard, 
or  what  insolent  streak  led  me  to  help  in  such  a 
document  as  the  Declaration  of  Independence  ?  She 
pities  me  for  having  come  up  among  such  a  God- 
defying,  lawless,  bloodthirsty  set  of  savages,  who 
defied  their  lawful  king  and  murdered  his  soldiers. 
It  gives  me  a  most  extraordinary  feeling,  for  she 
knows  more  about  it  than  I  do,  in  detail  at  least, 
since  she  remembers  every  word  her  father  ever  told 
her,  and  it  is  as  fresh  as  yesterday." 

"You  are  evading  me,"  said  Miss  Ryde,  severely. 
"  It  is  not  the  maundering  of  a  wild  old  woman  that 


BALLANTYNE  141 

has  given  you  such  a  look,  —  a  look  that  might  come 
if  you  had  signed  a  compact  with  the  devil." 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  had,  almost,"  Marion  said,  hardly 
above  her  breath.  She  had  started  visibly  at  the 
words,  and  now  as  she  rowed  in  to  shore,  and  held 
the  boat  steady  for  Miss  Ryde,  avoided  her  look,  and 
busied  herself  with  arranging  the  rug  and  fastening 
the  boat  securely. 

"  This  is  all  perfectly  comfortable,  and  now  you 
are  to  tell  me  why  you  have  settled  down  here,  and 
why  you  are  worn  to  a  thread  paper,"  said  Miss 
Ryde  calmly,  as  she  took  her  place,  but  with  a  tone 
compelling  definite  reply.  "  Have  you  been  nursing 
this  white  vampire  ?  " 

"How  can  you!"  said  Marion,  indignantly. 
"She  is  most  lovely,  and  wonderful,  and  unselfish. 
It  is  only  that  her  mind  is  set  on  this  one  thing, 
and  I  cannot  do  what  she  wishes.  Really,  I  ought 
to  go  away,  but  she  holds  me  so  I  cannot." 

"  It  is  well  that  I  know  you  are  not  an  idiot,"  said 
Miss  Ryde,  who  had  set  her  lips  firmly  as  she  listened, 
"  for  I  suppose  you  know  you  are  talking  like  one. 
How  does  she  hold  you  ?  " 

"  I  wish  I  knew,"  Marion  answered,  meeting  Miss 
Ryde's  eyes  with  a  look  so  troubled,  that  the  elder 
woman  bent  forward  and  patted  her  cheek. 

"  Poor  little  girl,"  she  said.     "  Well  ?  " 

"  I  was  going  away  the  next  day,"  Marion  went 
on.  "  She  was  ill  again  after  that  first  night,  and 
Mr.  Ballantyne  was  with  her  till  early  morning.  I 


i42  BALLANTYNE 

had  talked  with  her  before  that ;  a  strange  talk,  as  if 
she  had  always  known  me  and  had  a  right  to  ask 
what  she  pleased,  and  she  did  almost,  because  she 
had  known  my  father  and  the  rest.  Then  she  asked 
for  me  when  she  felt  better  again,  for  she  goes  up 
and  down  in  an  hour  in  some  strange  way,  and  she 
begged  me  to  stay,  because  I  did  her  so  much  good, 
she  said.  She  wanted  me  to  sit  by  her,  and  then  to 
read  to  her  a  little,  and  each  day  she  held  me  tighter 
and  tighter.  I  am  with  her  a  good  deal,  and  when 
I  go  out  of  the  room  I  feel  as  if  I  had  left  a  part  of 
my  life  behind.  It  is  her  wish  that  makes  it  so  hard. 
She  thinks  that  I  can,  if  I  will,  make  her  son  hate 
America  and  be  willing  never  to  go  back.  When 
she  begged  me  at  first,  I  said  I  would  try,  because  I 
had  thought  little  or  nothing  about  it,  and  could  not 
realize  what  it  might  mean  to  him.  Now  I  do  not 
wish  one  more  particle  for  myself,  the  return,  than  I 
did  when  I  left  it,  nor  shall  I.  But  all  this  ques 
tioning  and  sifting  by  these  people  has  defined  to  me 
some  things  that  were  never  clear  before.  He  ought 
to  go  if  he  wishes  it,  if  only  to  find  how  mistaken  he 
is.  I  have  to  admit  the  old  ideal  that  was  there 
once,  but  he  will  not  find  it  now.  It  is  dead,  and 
he  will  break  his  heart  over  it.  That  I  believe.  It 
is  a  sort  of  insanity  that  makes  her  hold  him  so  to 
an  old  promise ;  but  she  says,  with  the  look  of  an  old 
prophetess,  that  it  will  be  his  death.  How  can  we 
tell  if  she  may  not  be  a  true  one,  after  all  ?  " 
"  True  fiddlestick  !  "  said  Miss  Ryde,  with  fury. 


BALLANTYNE  143 

u  Of  all  the  irrational,  wrongheaded,  unnatural  ways 
of  looking  at  things,  Laura  Ballantyne's  takes  the 
palm.  Where  John  gets  a  gleam  of  common  sense 
is  a  mystery,  much  more  how  he  keeps  it.  You 
h?ve  had  enough  of  this,  and  you  are  going  up  with 
me  to-morrow  morning.  You  are  doing  no  good 
here  to  yourself  or  anybody  else.  She  may  go  on 
this  way  for  the  next  thirty  years.  These  people 
who  are  always  dying,  never  do  die.  Come  away." 

"  She  is  beautiful,"  said  Marion.  "  It  is  like  talk 
ing  with  a  disembodied  spirit,  almost.  She  has  such 
beautiful  thoughts  and  fancies.  She  is  so  wonderful." 

"  Fancies,  yes,"  returned  Miss  Ryde.  "  There  is 
bewitchment  about  her.  That  I  grant,  and  John, 
with  his  romantic  love  for  her,  is  befuddled,  like  all 
of  us.  Come  away.  You  have  better  things  to  do, 
and  so  have  I.  John  Ballantyne  must  work  out  his 
salvation,  and  so  must  you  ;  and  these  people  have 
naught  to  do  with  it  or  you,  and  little  with  him  in 
any  way,  did  he  but  know  it.  His  mother  thought 
he  would  marry  one  of  the  Earnshaw  girls,  and  settle 
into  an  English  gentleman ;  and  he  might  have  done 
worse,  but  he  has  never  been  in  love.  I  believe  he 
does  not  mean  to  be  on  this  side  the  sea,  though  it 
comes  where  it  will,  God  help  us  all !  " 

A  sudden  flush  dyed  Marion's  cheeks,  and  deep 
ened  under  Miss  Ryde's  eyes.  She  turned  to  the 
boat,  and  that  lady,  after  one  astonished  moment, 
came,  it  was  plain,  to  some  inward  resolution,  for 
she  smiled  cheerfully,  and,  as  they  sped  down  stream, 


i44  BALLANTYNE 

talked  steadily  of  the  last  club,  and  of  various  people 
who  had  been  brought  experimentally  by  Mr.  Beres- 
ford  to  her  last  Sunday  evening,  and  proved  first 
amusing  and  then  peculiarly  obnoxious,  one  of  them 
being  a  stout  American  medium,  who  had  persisted  in 
seeing  spirits  behind  everybody's  chair,  and  had  un 
dertaken  to  name  them,  failing  disastrously.  Bal- 
lantyne  was  at  the  boat-landing  as  they  reached  it, 
and  came  forward  with  an  amazed  look  as  he  saw 
Miss  Ryde. 

"  Yes,  it  is  I,  John,"  she  said.  "  I  got  off 
at  Heading,  for  I  wanted  my  old  walk  through 
the  fields  and  along  the  river  path,  and  there  was 
this  child  just  as  I  came  to  it.  I  sent  some  luggage 
on  by  a  Badgeley  boy,  and  it  is  there  by  this  time 
unless  the  Queen  has  special  hours  for  passage  over 
her  bridge." 

"  You  had  forsworn  Badgeley  so  absolutely,"  he 
said,  "  that  we  could  not  suppose  you  would  ever 
come  again.  Everybody  would  be  at  the  house 
this  evening  if  they  knew  you  were  here." 

"  Fate  can  order  that,"  said  Miss  Ryde.  "  I  came 
for  Miss  Lacy.  We  want  her  in  Chelsea,  and  there 
are  some  pictures  Eleanor  says  she  must  see  at  once. 
She  is  to  do  as  she  pleases,  however." 

u  That  point  will  have  to  be  settled  with  my 
mother,  I  fancy.  She  will  hold  fast." 

"  I  think  I  will  go  up,"  said  Marion,  with  an  evi 
dent  effort.  "  I  will  come  down  again  if  I  am  really 
needed,  but  Mrs.  Ballantyne  is  quite  herself  now ;  a 


BALLANTYNE  145 

delightful  self,  and  it  is  a  dear  old  place,  but  I  have 
lingered  long  enough." 

"  I  shall  not  urge.  You  know  best,"  said  Miss 
Ryde,  who  had  looked  at  both  quietly,  and  gave 
a  little  nod  as  she  stepped  through  the  long  win 
dow,  and  then  went  forward  to  Mrs.  Earnshaw, 
who  came  flying  over  the  lawn. 

"  Barbara  Ryde  !  You  !  And  why  would  n't  you 
come  before,  —  and  will  you  stay  now  ? " 

"  A  night,"  said  Miss  Ryde,  submitting  to  be 
folded  to  Mrs.  Earnshaw's  capacious  breast,  but 
shaking  herself  vigorously  when  the  embrace  ended. 

"Always  the  same,"  Mrs.  Earnshaw  said ;  "and 
none  but  me  would  forgive  the  way  you  go  on 
if  you  're  but  touched.  Sure  it  's  time  you  came,  for 
you  're  needed,"  she  added,  with  a  significant  glance 
toward  the  pair  who  had  gone  into  the  library,  and 
stood  before  the  window. 

"  I  want  no  words,"  said  Miss  Ryde,  decisively. 
"  Man's  meddling,  or  woman's  either,  mars  and  not 
makes,  if  there  's  aught  like  that  in  question.  I  will 
use  my  own  eyes,  my  dear,  and  do  better  left  to 
myself." 

"  Crusty  as  ever,"  said  Mrs.  Earnshaw,  with  her 
mellow  laugh.  "  Go  your  way  as  you  will,  but  you 
will  take  a  cup  of  tea  with  us.  They  come  at 
five,  just  as  always,  and  it  will  not  steal  much  of 
your  time.  'T  is  five  now,  indeed,  but  I  dare  say 
you  are  tired,  Barbara." 

"Not  I,"  returned  Miss  Ryde,  marching  across 
10 


146  BALLANTYNE 

the  little  lawn  and  brandishing  her  umbrella  as 
she  went.  Mr.  Earnshaw  greeted  her  courteously, 
but  evidently  with  certain  mental  reservations,  and 
Marion  smiled  as  she  saw  the  look  with  which 
Miss  Ryde  regarded  him,  and  the  sudden  twinkle 
which  announced  a  resolution. 

"  It 's  a  satisfaction  to  think  of  a  live  man  down 
here  who  will  not  mince  words,"  she  began  in  a 
pause  which  came  at  last,  in  spite  of  Mrs.  Earn- 
shaw's  best  efforts  to  keep  the  conversation  away  from 
dangerous  subjects.  She  had  looked  apprehensively 
at  Miss  Ryde  now  and  then,  quite  conscious  that 
mischief  was  in  her  mind,  and  uncertain  what  form 
it  might  take.  That  lady,  in  the  meantime,  sipped 
her  tea  and  looked  calmly  over  her  cup  at  her 
antagonist. 

"  Barrows  will  never  stop  for  the  sake  of  sparing 
feelings  like  John,  here,"  she  went  on  deliberately. 

"  You  are  all  paralyzed,  it  is  true,  and  lose  natural 
sensitiveness,  living  under  that  upas-tree  of  a  Queen, 
but  he  is  good  as  an  electric  shock.  At  least  you  are 
forced  to  know  that  other  people  are  thinking,  and 
that  the  world  moves  in  spite  of  your  faith  that  it 
does  n't." 

"  Barbara  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Earnshaw,  desperately. 
"  Why  will  you  stir  strife  with  such  sayings  ?  You 
ought  to  know  Mr.  Earnshaw  is  not  one  to  bear 
them." 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  said  Miss  Ryde,  defiantly. 
"  Why  should  he  not  bear  them  ?  They  are  the  only 


BALLANTYNE  147 

truth  that  ever  comes  to  his  ears,  shut  in  here  in  the 
middle  of  his  cheese,  as  comfortable  as  La  Fontaine's 
rat.  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Barbara  Ryde,"  said  Mr.  Earnshaw,  putting  down 
his  cup  and  rising  from  his  chair,  with  the  look  of 
dignified  and  polished  condemnation  that  had  for  a 
generation  struck  terror  to  all  offenders.  "  It  is  god 
less  women  who  are  responsible  for  more  evil  than 
all  your  ignorant,  benighted  Anarchists  and  other 
children  of  the  devil.  You  have  no  real  interest  in 
these  things.  You  sacrifice  nothing.  You  desire 
only,  like  the  Athenians,  to  hear  and  to  see  daily 
some  new  thing.  It  is  the  mere  foam  and  fury  of 
disjointed  minds  that  you  call  modern  thought.  We 
lived  our  lives  here  peacefully  till  this  curse  came  in, 
and  you  will  be  judged  for  the  evil,  idle  curiosity 
and  tampering  with  things  too  high  for  you  has 
wrought." 

"  Barbara,  Barbara  !  "  implored  Mrs.  Earnshaw, 
as  Miss  Ryde  in  turn  put  down  her  cup  and  stretched 
her  hand  toward  her  umbrella.  "  Do  remember  that 
we  are  all  old  friends,  too  old  to  disagree ;  and  don't 
let  fancies  come  between.  Why  would  you  begin 
it  ?  " 

« Why  would  I  ? "  said  Miss  Ryde  reflectively, 
after  a  moment  in  which  she  and  Mr.  Earnshaw 
faced  each  other  in  silence.  "  Because  I  had  a 
certain  curiosity  to  see  if  the  Middle  Ages  still  ruled. 
They  do.  You  know  no  more  of  the  real  England 
of  to-day  than  the  Babes  in  the  Wood.  I  am  satis- 


i48  BALLANTYNE 

fied.  You  will  hear  no  more.  You  are  a  good  soul, 
Horatia  Earnshaw,  but  I  see  no  more  use  in  pretend 
ing  we  are  in  sympathy  than  I  see  in  pretence  of  any 
order.  You  will  agree  with  me  presently."  And 
Miss  Ryde  stalked  through  the  open  window,  and 
crossed  the  lawn  with  a  determined  step. 

"  I  grieve  that  old  relations  must  be  altered,"  said 
Mr.  Earnshaw  in  his  smoothest  tone,  but  with  flushed 
cheeks.  "  But  as  rector  of  this  parish  and  in  charge 
of  souls,  my  duty  is  plain.  This  thing  must  be  wiped 
out,  and  I  refuse  hereafter  to  be  a  party  to  words  on 
such  subjects  under  this  roof.  I  include  you,  John, 
as  well  as  all  others,  though  you  have  been  less 
obnoxious  than  your  friends." 

Mr.  Earnshaw  had  risen  to  his  full  height,  and 
stood  as  if  he  would  draw  the  circle  of  the  Church 
about  himself  and  all  that  was  his  ;  nor  did  he  relax 
even  to  Marion,  who  said  good  night  with  the  feeling 
that  this  might  be  only  the  first  rumble  of  the  earth 
quake.  Ballantyne  lingered  for  a  moment,  for  Mrs. 
Earnshaw  had  turned  to  him  impulsively,  and  Marion 
crossed  the  lawn  and  went  to  her  room,  dressed 
hastily  and  descended  to  the  library,  to  find  Miss 
Ryde  sitting  there  reading  as  quietly  as  if  she  had 
never  heard  of  conflict. 

"  I  meant  to  make  it  impossible  to  come  again," 
she  said,  "  and  I  really  think  I  have  succeeded.  I 
regard  this  as  an  accursed  place.  The  life  lived  in  it 
is  from  beginning  to  end  a  parasitic  one.  I  stifle 
when  I  come  into  it.  This  ancient  beldame,  whose 


BALLANTYNE  149 

whole  existence  has  been  obstruction ;  this  smooth 
tongued  man,  who  for  once  has  been  made  to  speak 
his  real  mind,  and  whose  fat  living,  whether  he  be 
lieves  it  or  not,  is  ground  out  of  these  poor ;  this 
unwholesome  house,  with  hysteria  for  its  presiding 
genius,  —  it  is  all  false  life  from  beginning  to  end, 
and  I  want  no  more  of  it.  There  are  better  things 
waiting  for  you,  —  for  John  Ballantyne  as  well.  As 
I  feel  this  minute,  I  could  fire  the  house  with  my 
own  hands." 

"  I  think  it  has  made  you  unnatural,  too,"  said 
Marion,  in  amazement.  "  Dear  Miss  Ryde,  why 
should  you  let  yourself  be  so  stirred  by  things  quite 
outside  your  own  life  ?  " 

"They  are  not,"  Miss  Ryde  answered,  after  a 
pause.  u  Nothing  is  outside  my  life  that  I  choose 
to  make  part  of  it.  I  had  better  say  that  the  thing 
that  comes  to  my  life  is,  by  that  token,  a  part  of  it. 
I  have  made  my  protest  now,  as  I  will,  please  God, 
make  it  hereafter  against  all  false  doctrine,  accredited 
or  otherwise,  and  naught  on  earth  embodies  it  like 
the  British  Philistine.  I  belong  to  the  order  save  as 
I  have  been  emancipated.  Should  I  not  know  of 
what  I  speak  ?  " 

"  But  these  are  kind,  dear  people.  Why  should 
you  not  enjoy  this  exquisite  spot  and  all  the  good 
things  in  it  ?  Think  of  it  as  a  picture." 

"  I  want  no  picture  whose  colors  are  mixed  with 
human  tears,  and  whose  shadows  are  human  ignorance 
and  brutishness,"  said  Miss  Ryde,  firmly. 


150  BALLANTYNE 

"  But  you  may  quarrel  with  every  lovely  spot  on 
the  earth's  surface  if  you  take  that  ground." 

"  And  I  have  the  right  to  quarrel  if  every  reason 
able  brain  in  its  midst  is  not  seeking  to  bring  nearer 
its  own  level  every  other  brain.  Here  it  is  wasted 
force  to  live  or  to  work,  for  every  condition  means 
death.  Come  away." 

"  I  may  come,  but  I  choose  still  to  remember  the 
beauty,  and  to  claim  all  the  good  there  is  in  it," 
Marion  said.  "As  you,  too,  will  do  when  this  mood 
is  past.  I  do  not  know  you." 

Miss  Ryde  bent  forward  and  touched  Marion's 
cheek.  Her  eyes  were  quiet  and  sad. 

"It  is  simply  that  I  have  shut  one  more  door 
behind  me,  and  am  in  a  new  room,"  she  said. 
"That  is  the  way  things  go  with  me.  Thoughts 
come,  —  thoughts  of  all  orders,  and  I  let  them  settle 
and  work  as  they  will,  and  suddenly  some  day,  out  of 
the  mass,  comes  the  one  thing  to  be  held  to,  —  the 
crystallization  of  what  was  for  me.  This  time  seems 
to  have  been  chosen  for  a  fresh  departure ;  and 
though  I  admit  it  is  a  little  uncomfortable  for  every 
body  concerned,  it  will  not  be  in  the  end.  Truth 
must  always  mean  the  best  ultimately." 

"  But  truth  seems  to  me  so  often  such  a  purely 
relative  thing,"  Marion  said  ;  and  then,  after  a  pause, 
"  What  made  you  begin  to  think  of  these  things  ?  " 

Miss  Ryde  grew  very  pale,  and  a  strange  look 
came  into  her  eyes. 

"  Once  in  my  life,"  she  said,  "  I  believed  every- 


BALLANTYNE  151 

thing  that  a  man  of  many  thoughts  said  to  me,  and  I 
believed  a  good  while.  I  know  better  now,  but  out 
of  the  chaos  he  presented  to  me,  I  have  made  some 
selections  that  stand  firm.  My  dear,  may  you  never 
have  to  get  your  experience  in  the  same  way." 

Price  had  entered  as  she  spoke,  and  took  a  cushion 
or  two  from  the  sofa.  "  Does  that  mean  that  Mrs. 
Ballantyne  will  come  down,  Price  ?  "  Miss  Ryde  went 
on,  quietly. 

"  Mr.  John  is  bringing  her  now,  ma'am,"  Price 
said,  and  went  toward  the  dining-room. 

"  She  comes  down  very  often,  almost  daily,  lately," 
Marion  said,  trying  to  recover  herself.  "  She  is  very 
frail.  I  think  she  seems  more  so  every  time.  They 
are  there  now,  are  they  not  ?  " 

Nothing  more  shadowy  could  well  be  conceived 
than  the  white  figure  that  leaned  forward  delightedly 
as  Miss  Ryde  entered  the  room. 

u  I  have  saved  all  my  strength  to  dine  with  you," 
she  cried.  "  It  is  like  old  times.  How  good  you  are 
to  come  !  " 

Miss  Ryde's  face  softened.  Inveigh  as  she  might, 
she  was  none  the  less  under  the  charm  which  had 
held  Marion,  and  dropping  suddenly  all  her  antago 
nism,  she  gave  herself  up  to  it,  and  they  lingered  at 
the  table  till  Mrs.  Ballantyne  said  : 

"  I  must  go  up,  but  come  with  me,  Barbara,  as  you 
used  to  do." 

Miss  Ryde  nodded  silently,  and  followed,  as  the 
fragile  little  figure  was  lifted  in  Ballantyne's  strong 


152  BALLANTYNE 

arms  and  carried  slowly  and  steadily  up  the  stairs. 
Marion  stood  below  watching  the  delicate  head,  with 
its  waving  white  hair  lying  on  his  shoulder,  the  face 
illumined  by  the  gleam  of  the  lamp  in  Price's  hand. 

"  How  beautiful  she  is,"  Marion  thought,  as  she 
caught  the  smile  sent  back  to  her  as  they  paused  on 
the  landing,  and  then  she  turned  into  the  library 
and  sat  down  by  the  window,  and  looked  into  the  old 
garden  where  night-moths  were  humming  about  the 
lime-tree.  It  had  all  become  so  home-like,  so  famil 
iar,  that,  in  spite  of  the  tension  of  the  last  month,  she 
felt  a  pang  at  the  thought  of  separation  from  it. 

Now  that  separation  was  certain,  she  wondered 
why  such  tension  should  have  been.  It  was  the  un 
spoken  rather  than  spoken  word  that  had  brought  it 
about,  for  since  that  first  interview  Mrs.  Ballantyne 
had  been  quite  silent  as  to  her  own  wishes,  They 
had  sat  much  in  her  room  reading  and  talking,  and 
though  America  as  a  topic  had  never  once  been 
formally  introduced,  it  had  come  up  in  a  thousand 
ways.  Her  own  life  there ;  the  growth  and  changes 
of  Boston ;  the  new  ways  in  which  wealth  was  com 
ing;  the  type  of  man  that  made  it,  and  of  woman 
that  spent  it ;  art,  literature,  all  and  each  in  turn  had 
been  canvassed,  always  as  if  seeking  information ; 
always  with  that  silent  undercurrent  of  dread  and  dis 
like,  and  the  demand,  no  less  silent,  but  more  and 
more  compelling,  that  her  will  should  be  fulfilled. 
Now  and  then  Ballantyne  asked  a  question,  but  for 
the  most  part  he  listened,  making  no  comment  on 


BALLANTYNE  153 

the  reply,  and  like  one  whose  mind  being  quite  settled 
moved  on  undisturbed  in  its  own  lines. 

"  He  thinks  I  am  leagued  against  him,"  Marion 
had  thought  often,  with  an  impatient  desire  to  show 
that  this  was  untrue,  and  then  came  his  mother's 
comment,  or  the  question  ingeniously  framed  to  bring 
out  the  worst  side  of  the  point  that  might  have  come 
up.  Strong  as  was  Marion's  sense  of  personal  inde 
pendence,  she  felt  an  often  almost  intolerable  subju 
gation,  intangible  yet  firm  as  the  thread  the  spider 
casts  about  its  prey. 

"  It  is  silly,  and  so  absolutely  blind,"  she  thought 
often.  "  The  least  real  knowledge  of  human  nature 
would  show  her  that  she  must  defeat  herself  in  the 
end.  I  seem  her  tool  and  feel  so,  and  yet  she  only 
speaks  my  own  thought." 

Outside  the  walls  of  the  invalid's  room  Ballantyne 
put  the  subject  away  absolutely.  Once  or  twice  he 
had  been  up  to  town,  but  save  for  this  they  had  been 
almost  constantly  together,  and  she  had  begun  to  feel 
the  same  sense  of  dependence  on  his  quiet  strength 
that  made  part  of  the  relation  of  all  to  him.  He 
carried  a  burden.  That,  to  one  who  watched  him, 
was  plain,  but  he  carried  it  with  a  cheerfulness  that 
deceived  even  his  mother. 

For  the  rest,  he  was  the  most  delightful  of  com 
panions,  a  thousand  interests  filling  his  life,  of  all 
which  they  talked  as  the  days  went  on,  and  her  con 
fidence  grew,  and  reserve,  save  on  one  point,  had 
ended.  With  him  the  same  fact  seemed  true,  even 


154  BALLANTYNE 

when  she  was  most  conscious  of  the  underlying 
reserve.  There  were  moments  when  she  felt  sure 
he  understood  her  position,  and  when  her  inward 
rebellion  at  his  mother's  methods  was  strongest,  she 
had  once,  at  least,  eaught  a  look  that  meant  not  only 
comprehension,  but  something  more  j  what,  she  had 
not  sought  to  define. 

"  He  is  under  a  spell,"  she  thought,  sitting  in  the 
soft,  lingering  twilight  with  no  consciousness  of  how 
1  time  was  going,  and  remembering  how  his  eyes  had 
rested  on  her,  as  she  had  come  suddenly  upon  him 
the  day  before,  under  the  lime-tree  where  he  had 
been  sitting  with  a  book.  The  color  had  come  to 
her  cheeks  in  a  sudden  flood  as  she  met  the  look. 
There  were  words  on  his  lips,  she  knew,  but  Mrs. 
Earnshaw's  voice  had  sounded  from  the  hedge,  and 
they  had  both  moved  toward  her  at  once.  It  was 
the  memory  of  that  look  that  had  brought  the  color 
again  as  Miss  Ryde  spoke,  and  now  she  was  going, 
and  perhaps  no  words  would  ever  come. 

"  I  cannot  help  it,"  she  thought.  "  Everything 
here  is  unnatural.  I  want  myself  again.  I  must  go 
back  to  London  and  find  out  what  I  really  think 
about  everything.  Now  I  am  under  a  spell,  and 
reason  has  fled.  I  will  wait  its  return  before  I  hear 
or  say  more  words  that  may  only  make  the  tangle 
greater.  For,  when  all  is  said,  what  can  it  be  but 
a  tangle  ? " 

"  Miss  Ryde  sends  down  good-night,  ma'am,  and 
she  is  tired  and  has  gone  to  her  room,"  said  Price's 


BALLANTYNE 


'55 


voice    near    her,    and     Marion     rose     with     sudden 
resolution. 

"  I  am  tired,  too,"  she  said,  "and  will  go  up  now; " 
and  she  went  hastily  up  the  stairs  to  her  room,  con 
scious  that  she  might  soon  be  sought,  and  that  here 
was  her  best  refuge. 


Chapter   Eleventh 

MISS    RYDE    descended    next    morning 
with    an    energy    that    swept    every 
thing     before     it.     Mrs.    Ballantyne 
had  had   one  of  the  severest   of  her 
attacks  during  the  night,  Price  announced,  and  would 
not  let  Mr.  John  out  of  her  sight,  and  Miss  Ryde 
took   full   command :    ordered    a   cart    from   the  inn 
for  the  luggage,  saw  that  Marion  ate  a  satisfactory 
breakfast,  and  sent   her  up  to   pack,  and  then,  with 
hands    behind    her,    paced    up    and    down    the    long 
drawing-room,  shaking  her  head  and  muttering  unin 
telligible  sentences  as  she  went. 

"  What  is  to  happen  will  happen,"  she  said  at 
last  aloud,  as  Marion  entered  in  her  travelling  dress, 
just  in  time  to  receive  Mrs.  Earnshaw,  who  dissolved 
in  tears  as  she  saw  her. 

"  It 's  all  your  fault,  Barbara,"  she  cried,  "  and  to 
think  I  should  have  to  say  it  to  your  face  !  You  've 
broken  my  heart,  and  now  you  want  to  break  others  ! 
Why  won't  you  learn  reason,  and  not  throw  away 
your  best  friends  just  for  whims  ?  " 

Miss  Ryde  set  her  lips  firmly  and  stood  silent  till 
Mrs.  Earnshaw  wiped  her  eyes  and  tried  to  smile, 


BALLANTYNE  157 

then,  as  she  saw  the  preparations  for  departure,  burst 
into  tears  again. 

"  You  are  going  !  "  she  said,  "  and  you  may  never 
come  again;  and  what  was  the  use  of  tangling 
everything  so  that  I  can't  even  ask  you  to  come 
again  ?  You  are  crazy,  Barbara." 

"Perhaps  I  am,  Horatia,"  returned  Miss  Ryde, 
grimly,  u  but  I  prefer  my  kind  to  yours.  I  am  not 
as  hard  a  flint  as  you  take  me  for,  and  perhaps  some 
day  you  will  see  that  I  am  none  the  less  a  friend. 
You  certainly  will  if  you  need  me.  Come,  child ; 
we  are  to  walk,  and  there  is  no  more  than  time. 
John  can't  escape,  and  we  must  care  for  ourselves." 

"It  is  miserable  to  go  with  no  good-bye,"  said 
Marion,  distressed.  "  I  do  not  know  how  to  do  it, 
yet  this  may  last  for  days,  as  it  has  before." 

"  Precisely,  and  therefore  you  have  no  responsi 
bility  in  the  matter,"  said  Miss  Ryde,  firmly.  "We 
have  nothing  to  do  but  to  go,  and  I  wish  that  before 
leaving  we  could  exorcise  some  of  the  spirits  that 
rule  here.  You  think  I  am  flinty  and  lack  compre 
hension,  and  perhaps  both  are  true.  But  I  hate 
waste,  above  all  of  human  life,  and  if  ever  a  life  was 
wasted  it  is  this  one  that  waits  on  the  whim  of  an 
embodied  lunatic  asylum.  Leave  your  good-byes  as 
I  am  doing,  and  Heaven  help  all  in  and  out  of  the 
house  !  "  And  with  this  comprehensive  prayer  Miss 
Ryde  passed  out  from  the  gate,  and  stood  waiting  for 
Marion  till  Mrs.  Earnshaw,  releasing  her  from  a 
close  embrace,  went  sobbing  across  the  lawn. 


158  BALLANTYNE 

"  They  were  so  good.  They  have  been  so  good," 
Marion  said,  with  shaking  voice. 

"  Say  what  you  like.  I  sha'n't  mind  it,"  returned 
Miss  Ryde.  "  You  don't  see  that  it  had  to  be,  but 
I  am  sorry  you  are  dragged  into  it.  Now  come,  else 
we  shall  not  get  away  till  afternoon." 

Marion  looked  back  as  they  crossed  the  little 
bridge  with  its  ancient  toll-taker,  with  the  pang  that 
had  often  come  to  her  in  leaving  some  lovely  spot 
she  might  never  see  again.  With  it  was  something 
no  less  strong,  —  the  curious  sense  of  compulsion  that 
had  held  her  here,  and  that  seemed  now  to  urge  her 
back,  till  she  felt  impelled,  almost,  to  turn  and  wait  the 
will  that  had  dominated  her  silently  but  profoundly. 
She  sighed  heavily,  like  one  coming  out  of  hypnotic 
sleep,  as  the  train  glided  away  from  the  little  station, 
and  with  every  mile  the  sense  of  pressure  lessened. 

Miss  Ryde  held  a  book  and  nominally  read,  but 
she  watched  the  girl's  face  and  nodded  now  and  then, 
like  one  convinced  of  the  correctness  of  a  theory. 

"  There  shall  be  no  more  words  till  she  wants 
them,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  She  is  dazed,  and  will 
not  know  her  own  mind  for  a  month,  if  she  does 
then." 

"  Come  this  evening  for  a  bit,  if  you  will,"  she  said, 
as  the  cab  left  her  at  her  own  door;  and  Marion  smiled 
yes,  looking  about  her  with  a  feeling  of  home-coming 
that  was  most  comforting.  Mrs.  Pattle  received  her 
with  open  arms.  Polly  wept  for  joy.  Below,  the 
river  sparkled  and  the  boats  shot  by.  Even  the  roar 


BALLANTYNE  159 

of  London,  muffled  here,  yet  always  the  distinct  under 
tone,  seemed  part  of  the  welcome,  and  she  unpacked 
and  settled  her  belongings,  rejecting  Polly's  aid,  eagerly 
rejoiced  to  feel  again  that  freedom,  the  loss  of  which 
was  now  a  far  more  conscious  fact  than  in  the  days 
just  ended. 

Jane,  the  inflexible,  came  in  presently,  smiling  with 
suitably  tempered  gratification,  with  a  message  from 
Miss  Ryde.  Mr.  Norris  and  Eleanor  were  to  dine 
with  her,  and  would  Miss  Lacy  come  also,  else  they 
would  not  feel  the  party  complete  ? 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  constant  series  of  en 
gagements.  The  season  was  in  full  tide,  and  Marion 
soon  found  herself  in  great  demand,  going  about  a 
good  deal  with  Eleanor  and  Mrs.  Norris,  and  now  and 
then  with  Miss  Ryde.  The  latter,  however,  preferred 
her  established  methods,  and  simply  allowed  a  little 
more  license  than  usual. 

Marion  met  many  old  acquaintances,  most  of  them 
taking  her  reappearance  for  granted,  and  soon  found 
herself  overwhelmed  with  invitations.  Now  and  then 
a  stern  dowager,  who  had  heard  that  the  rich  young 
American  chose  to  live  in  lodgings  among  Bohemians, 
Socialists,  and  all  other  elements  of  general  upheaval 
and  disruption,  eyed  her  with  stony  disapproval,  tem 
pered,  however,  by  the  consciousness  that  American 
dollars  were  a  great  factor  in  the  problem  of  younger 
sons;  and,  for  the  most  part,  the  days  were  simply  a 
choice  of  pleasant  things. 

Mr.  Beresford  she  encountered  everywhere,  but  he 


160  BALLANTYNE 

remained  faithful  to  the  Sunday  evenings  in  Cheyne 
Walk,  bringing  with  him  strange  captures  of  all 
orders;  and  the  days  slipped  away,  each  fuller  than  the 
last,  but  each  with  its  distinct  sense  of  loss,  for  in  not 
one  of  them  had  John  Ballantyne  given  token  that  he 
remembered  her  existence,  save  on  the  day  following 
their  leaving,  when  a  brief  note  had  come,  saying  that 
his  mother  was  no  better,  and  regretted  that  she  could 
not  have  seen  them  again. 

Marion  wrote  to  Mrs.  Ballantyne  more  than  once, 
and  then  decided  to  let  the  correspondence  drop  till 
she  was  stronger  again,  and  so  a  month  passed.  The 
"  season  "  waned,  and  London,  hot,  dusty,  and  weary, 
waited  August,  and  the  day  of  release  for  the  toilers 
of  Hyde  Park,  and  Rotten  Row,  and  Piccadilly. 

At  last  it  came,  and  even  in  Chelsea  were  signs  of 
flight.  Cabs  loaded  down  with  hampers,  gun  cases, 
and  fishing-rods  waited  before  doors,  from  which  issued 
mercantile  gentlemen,  clad  in  wondrous  raiment  mod 
elled  after  their  own  theories  as  to  a  sportsman's  dress, 
and  scanned  critically  by  small  boys  who  waited  and 
hooted  in  chorus,  as  indignant  cabmen  threatened 
from  boxes  or  even  descended  for  personal  encounters. 
A  day  or  two  of  this  and  then  London  was  empty, 
save  for  the  two  or  three  million  who  remained  to 
take  their  holiday  a  day  or  two  at  a  time,  or,  a  degree 
below,  oblivious  that  the  year  knew  any  days  but  days 
of  toil. 

Marion  had  declined  all  invitations.  A  quiet  nook 
in  the  Lake  country ;  an  old  inn  set  deep  in  the  hills 


BALLANTYNE  161 

beyond  the  route  of  tourists,  and  full  still  of  the  flavor 
fast  passing  from  all  but  the  most  secret  retreats ;  it 
was  this  that  drew  her,  as  she  remembered  days  in 
her  early  girlhood  spent  there  with  her  father.  Miss 
Ryde,  who  had  watched  her  silently,  smiled  somewhat 
grimly  as  Marion  announced  that  she  should  go  no 
where,  and  meant  to  rest  vigorously  in  order  to  be 
ready  for  October  work  and  November  fogs. 

"  American  as  usual,"  she  said.  "  I  distribute  my 
rest  as  I  go,  and  have  no  need  of  a  holiday.  But  each 
to  his  own  method.  Perhaps  when  you  have  spent 
such  energy  as  is  necessary  on  resting,  you  will  come 
to  me  in  Devonshire,  and  see  what  my  old  home  is 
like.  I  will  write  when  I  am  ready  for  you,  if  you 
are  inclined  to  spare  me  a  bit  of  your  playtime." 

"  I  shall  love  to  come.  It  will  be  delightful," 
Marion  said,  so  heartily  that  Miss  Ryde  looked  at 
her  for  a  moment,  and  then  bent  to  give  her  the 
touch  of  lips  that  seemed  to  have  no  knowledge  of 
kisses,  yet  now  and  then  adventured  brief  lessons  in 
this  unlearned  branch,  always  with  a  little  frown  of 
uncertainty  at  the  end. 

"  Is  it  well  to  be  quite  alone  ?  "  she  asked,  with 
unusual  hesitation. 

"  I  am  never  lonely,"  Marion  answered,  hastily. 
u  For  me  it  is  often  best ; "  and  Miss  Ryde,  who  had 
begun  some  inarticulate  reply,  checked  herself  and 
turned  to  her  knitting. 

A  week  later,  Marion,  settled  in  the  low-ceiled, 
spacious  room  at  the  old  inn,  strewn  now  with  books 

ii 


162  BALLANTYNE 

and  papers  and  tokens  of  work,  restlessly  begun  and 
tossed  aside,  leaned  from  the  open  casement  and 
looked  out  on  the  valley  and  the  mist-shrouded  hills. 
Calmness,  quiet  repose,  all  were  here;  an  integral, 
vital  part  of  everything  save  her  own  eager,  unquiet, 
uncertain  spirit.  Miles  of  walking,  hours  of  climbing 
steep  and  remembered  ascents,  pilgrimages  to  one 
point  and  another,  and  deep  study  of  local  traditions 
and  records  had  filled  the  days. 

Ten  of  these  had  passed,  and,  in  spite  of  deter 
mined  effort,  restlessness  still  tormented.  From  hour 
to  hour  the  same  sense  of  compulsion  that  had  been 
upon  her  in  the  weeks  at  Badgeley  ruled.  At  mo 
ments  it  was  so  strong  that  she  lifted  her  head  from 
book  or  work,  as  if  to  face  an  unseen  but  powerful 
presence,  till  she  began  to  question  if  this  might  be 
a  haunted  house,  and  she,  for  the  time  being,  the 
victim  of  some  sad  or  malignant  spirit.  But  the 
bright  fire  and  candle-light  of  evening  curiously 
enough  always  dispelled  all  this,  and  thus  confirmed 
her  in  the  belief  that  it  was  all  merest  fancy,  a  freak 
of  tired  nerves. 

On  the  tenth  day  the  feeling  had  been  stronger 
than  on  any  that  had  preceded  it,  and  Mrs.  Porson, 
as  she  brought  in  the  tea  tray,  looked  anxiously  at 
her  pale  cheeks. 

u  It 's  young  company  you  're  needing,  me  dear, 
if  you  '11  pardon  me.  It 's  not  natural  being  so 
much  alone  with  naught  but  your  own  thoughts.'* 

u  I   am   very   content,"   Marion    said   abstractedly, 


BALLANTYNE  163 

and  Mrs.  Person  with  another  word  or  two  set  down 
the  tray  and  went  out. 

The  pressure  did  not  lessen.  Marion  drank  a 
little  tea,  and  then  read  on  for  a  time ;  wrote  a  letter 
or  two,  and  stopped  at  last  to  walk  up  and  down  the 
room  trying  to  argue  herself  into  quietness  and  com 
posure.  It  came  at  last  in  the  old  way  as  she  laid 
her  head  on  the  pillow,  over  which,  for  a  moment, 
grandfather  seemed  to  lean,  with  the  familiar  form 
of  words,  "  It 's  all  right,  my  pet,"  and  soon  she 
slept  profoundly. 

Dreams  came  ;  the  same  that,  night  after  night, 
had  visited  her.  Long  vistas  of  wonderful  archi 
tectural  forms  and  landscapes  like  yet  unlike  any 
thing  her  waking  eyes  had  seen  were  before  her,  and 
in  the  far  remoteness  a  figure  dim  and  undefined, 
that  sought  to  come  to  her  and  could  not.  To-night 
the  spell  was  lifted.  It  moved  toward  her  at  last, 
swiftly  and  silently,  the  form  she  had  never  seen  save 
on  sofa  or  bed  or  borne  in  the  arms  of  her  son.  It 
was  Mrs.  Ballantyne,  whose  eyes,  dark  and  troubled, 
were  fixed  on  hers,  and  who  bent  over  her. 

"  Oh,  why,  why  did  I  not  understand  what  I  was 
doing  ?  "  she  said.  "  I  thought  I  was  right,  and  I 
have  been  so  wrong.  I  know  now.  Help  me, 
Marion,  help  me  to  make  the  crooked  straight. 
There  will  never  be  rest,  never  be  rest,  till  wrong 
is  made  right." 

The  words  ended  in  a  wail.  The  hands  were 
outstretched,  woe  looked  from  the  deep  eyes,  and 


i64  BALLANTYNE 

Marion  sprang  up  with  a  cry.  Morning  was  there, 
but  for  a  moment  she  seemed  to  see  the  misty  form 
and  hear  the  appeal  in  the  familiar  tones.  Then 
the  same  sense  of  soothing,  unseen  love  was  about 
her,  and  the  same  words  whispered  themselves,  "  It 's 
all  right,  my  pet ;  wait  a  little. " 

"  Wait,"  Marion  repeated,  the  sound  of  her  own 
voice  startling  her  into  full  wakefulness ;  but  the  dream 
stayed  on,  nor  did  its  power  lessen  as  the  day  went  on. 

Mrs.  Porson  came  up  several  times  to  inquire 
anxiously  how  she  felt,  each  fold  of  her  triple  chin 
seeming  to  radiate  good  will  and  general  approbation. 
She  had  watched  her  comings  and  goings  with  per 
plexed  but  continuous  interest,  settling  at  last  to  her 
own  and  her  equally  curious  husband's  satisfaction 
that  the  singular  lodger  probably  meant  to  write  a 
book,  and  was  gathering  her  material. 

u  There  was  two  last  summer  as  was,  but  none  so 
sensible  like,"  she  said  to  Marion  herself.  "Two 
slips  of  girls  they  were,  but  they  hired  a  cottage  rough 
as  rough,  and  lived  with  the  cottage  folk,  only  they 
came  here  for  meals,  and  I  said  to  them,  'What 
pleasure  can  it  be  ? '  and  they  said,  'But,  Mrs.  Por 
son,  we  have  to  live  our  background  before  we  can 
write  it,'  and  to  this  hour  I  am  not  certain  rightly 
what  they  meant,  for  they  said  it  for  everything.  Is 
it  a  background  you  're  seeking  after,  me  dear  ?  " 

"No,  a  foreground,  I  think,"  returned  Marion, 
with  a  smile ;  and  Mrs.  Porson,  with  an  acquiescent 
but  bewildered  series  of  nods,  went  her  way. 


BALLANTYNE  165 

"  To-day  I  have  neither,"  Marion  said  to  herself, 
as  the  mist  took  a  character  of  sudden  resolve  and 
closed  in,  till  only  a  dim  outline  of  the  nearest  trees 
remained.  "  That  seems  to  be  all  I  have  of  late. 
Just  the  inch  or  two  beyond  me  is  all  that  is  mine, 
and  I  must  make  the  most  of  it.  All  the  same,  I 
must  have  my  walk,  though  only  the  King's  highway 
will  be  practicable  this  afternoon.  Now  for  all  the 
armor  this  wonderful  climate  requires,  and  I  will  try 
blind  man's  buff  with  nature." 

"  Keep  to  the  straight  road,  me  dear,"  Mrs. 
Person  said  solicitously  as  she  came  to  the  door. 
"  You  're  not  used  even  to  that  in  our  mists,  but  one 
cannot  bide  inside  the  day  long,  and  you  '11  be  fresher 
for  a  sup  of  air." 

A  sup  it  was  likely  to  prove.  "It  is  really  a 
drizzle,"  Marion  said,  half  loud,  as  she  settled  into 
the  steady  swing  learned  in  the  long  walks  with  her 
father.  "We  will  call  it  mist,  however,  in  deference 
to  the  prejudices  of  the  neighborhood.  At  home, 
now,  the  sun  is  shining  and  the  August  shimmer  is  in 
the  air.  Home?  Where  is  home?  What  would 
make  it  ?  I  have  none,  nor  shall  I  have.  In  the  end 
I  shall  be  simply  another  wandering  American,  and, 
like  Miss  Biggs,  it  will  be  '  wherever  I  hang  up  my 
bunnit.'  " 

The  thought  did  not  prove  cheering,  and  as  she 
went  she  peered  into  the  mist  on  either  side,  with  no 
power  to  determine  what  lay  beyond,  such  diligent 
attention  being  required  to  keep  in  the  highway  itself 


166  BALLANTYNE 

that  she  finally  grew  weary,  and  turned  about,  paus 
ing  for  a  moment  as  she  heard  the  sound  of  firm 
footsteps  coming  steadily  and  close  at  hand.  Some 
stray  tourist,  she  thought,  and  remained  standing,  for 
the  grayness  all  about  seemed  growing  denser,  and 
mist  was  turning  into  fog  of  almost  London  consist 
ency.  Collision  might  at  any  moment  happen,  and 
whether  tourist  or  native  she  must  sound  some  alarm. 

"  Take  care !  "  she  cried.  "  There  is  some  one 
here." 

u  Some  one  ?  "  a  voice  answered,  and  in  another 
moment  John  Ballantyne  held  her  hand,  and  she  saw 
his  face,  worn  and  harassed,  but  an  eager  light  in  his 
eyes. 

"  I  was  coming  to  you,"  he  said  simply,  as  if  only 
that  could  have  been  expected.  "  Miss  Ryde  told 
me  you  were  here,  and  I  could  not  wait  to  write." 

u  Fog  seems  to  be  your  native  element,"  said 
Marion,  trying  to  release  her  hand,  which  he  still  held 
but  dropped  at  her  movement.  u  I  shall  never  find 
myself  in  one,  without  expecting  you  to  appear  as 
pilot  and  bring  me  out  in  safety.  Your  mother  is 
better,  then  ?  I  have  heard  nothing  from  her  for  so 
long  that  I  feared  she  must  be  very  ill  indeed." 

"  She  has  been,  but  it  is  quite  over,"  he  answered, 
with  a  little  pause  after  the  words.  "  I  knew  that 
letters  had  missed  you,"  he  went  on.  "  Did  you  not 
know  that  she  was  dead  ?  " 

"Dead  ?  "  Marion  repeated  as  the  word  came,  and 
stood  motionless. 


BALLANTYNE  167 

"  Ten  days  ago,"  he  said,  and  again  she  started. 
Ten  days  before  the  dream  had  begun,  and  the  figure 
had  striven  to  reach  her  and  could  not. 

"  It  is  horrible,"  she  said,  with  a  gasp.  "  What 
shall  I  do  ?  " 

"  You  are  terribly  startled.  I  ought  not  to  have 
told  you  so  abruptly,"  he  said,  remorsefully. 

"  No,  no,"  Marion  answered,  trying  to  recover 
herself.  "Tell  me  more.  I  want  to  know  it  all. 
How  is  it  that  Miss  Ryde  did  not  send  to  me  ?  " 

"  It  came  so  suddenly  at  last  that  there  was  no  time 
to  send  to  any  one,"  he  answered,  after  a  moment  in 
which  he  looked  at  her  anxiously.  u  Had  you  not 
better  get  back  to  the  inn,  though  ?  I  think  the  mist  is 
rising.  We  can  see  some  distance  down  the  road." 

"  We  will  walk  on  a  little ;  that  will  be  better," 
Marion  said,  dreading  return  till  she  had  heard  the 
story,  and  they  turned  at  once. 

"  She  had  been  a  trifle  better,"  he  went  on,  "  but 
she  could  not  endure  to  be  left  for  a  moment.  The 
last  week  or  two  I  lived  at  her  side,  and  slept  only  as 
she  made  me  lie  down  by  her.  The  old  horror  was 
on  her,  the  dread  of  the  sea  and  the  memory  of  that 
night  in  which  my  father  and  brother  came  to  shore 
dead,  and  only  I  had  lived  after  all  his  struggle. 
c  You  have  promised.  You  will  never  tempt  it 
again,'  she  said  over  and  over  \  and  when  I  was  silent 
her  voice  went  on  and  on, c  Promise  me,  promise  me,' 
till  I  hardly  knew  if  I  could  still  endure  it.  c  Not  till 
you  are  ready  to  have  me,'  was  all  I  could  say,  but 


168  BALLANTYNE 

this  was  not  enough.  She  knew  what  it  meant,  and 
tried  desperately  to  make  me  pledge  myself  to  forget 
America,  and  cleave  to  the  home  here. 

"  This  went  on  day  after  day  till  the  last.  That 
afternoon  she  had  been  quite  silent  for  an  hour  or 
two,  only  looking  at  me  as  I  sat  by  her,  with  the 
same  demand  in  her  eyes,  till  suddenly  the  look 
changed.  '  John,  John,'  she  cried,  but  it  was  not  I 
to  whom  she  spoke.  '  John  !  Was  I  wrong  ?  I 
meant  to  be  right/  and  fell  back  dead." 

He  sighed,  the  long  deep  sigh  of  one  coming  from 
sharp  pain.  "  I  shall  take  her  home,"  he  said.  "  In 
her  real  mind  that  is  what  she  would  have  wished. 
I  sail  on  Saturday.  I  was  coming  to  look  for  you. 
I  needed  to  speak." 

Marion  walked  on  silently.  The  moment  had 
come  that  for  weeks  she  had  known  must  come, 
and  in  the  tumult  of  feeling  that  filled  her  she  was 
conscious  of  but  one  thought.  She  would  be  firm. 
Nothing  should  break  the  resolution  that  she  was 
aware  now  had  been  forming,  and  that  must  at  any 
cost  be  kept. 

"  You  know  why  I  have  come,"  he  said.  "  I  have 
waited  till  I  could  act  freely  and  unhampered,  —  an 
impossible  thing  so  long  as  that  other  soul  seemed  to 
draw  its  very  life  from  me.  It  could  not  be  helped. 
I  know  what  you  think  and  others,  but  I  have  never 
been  able  to  see  any  other  way.  Now  I  am  free. 
Marion,  I  must  have  you  in  my  life.  Give  me 
yourself  if  you  will." 


BALLANTYNE  169 

As  he  spoke  there  came  a  swift  brightening.  Some 
sudden  shifting  of  wind  sent  the  breaking  clouds 
crowding  down  the  valley,  till  meadow  and  hillside 
and  lake  lay  clear  before  them,  and  they  saw  a  faint, 
watery  sunshine  striving  behind  the  cloud.  A  stile 
close  at  hand  led  into  the  meadow,  and  here  Marion 
sat  down  and  for  a  moment  shut  her  eyes.  Why 
should  she  struggle,  or  protest,  or  refuse?  What 
better  life  could  come  than  one  lived  side  by  side 
with  this  soul,  eager  as  her  own  to  help,  nobler  in 
its  renunciation  and  simple  fidelity  than  any  she  had 
ever  known  ?  Why  did  he  not  compel  her  answer, 
instead  of  standing  there  eager  yet  silent,  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  her  with  a  longing  she  dared  not  meet? 
For  a  moment  she  wavered.  Then  she  remembered 
all  that  she  had  told  herself  as  she  waited.  Why 
must  she  renounce  a  wish  as  dear  to  her  as  his  could 
be  to  him  ?  What  safety  could  there  be  for  the 
future,  when,  if  she  yielded,  life  would  be  a  perpetual 
looking  backward  ?  Why  would  he  not  remain  con 
tent  with  the  rich  inheritance  ready  to  his  hand  ? 

"  I  cannot,  no,  I  cannot,"  she  cried  passionately, 
rising  to  her  feet.  u  There  is  something  you  love  bet 
ter  than  me.  Give  up  this  going  home.  Stay  here, 
where  everything  claims  you,  and  I  will  do  all  you  ask." 

"  You  love  me,  Marion  !  " 

He  put  out  his  arms,  and  for  a  moment  she  yielded 
and  felt  the  throbbing  of  his  heart,  and  the  tender 
pressure  that  meant  the  fulfilment  of  deepest  desire. 
Then  she  struggled  away. 


170  BALLANTYNE 

"  Oh,  I  am  weak  enough  to  yield  at  this  moment," 
she  said,  "  but  I  will  not.  I  will  be  true  to  what  I 
know  must  be.  I  have  thought  it  all  out  over  and 
over.  How  could  I  tell  you  so  if  your  mother  had 
not  been  bent  that  I  should  see  with  her  ?  But  I  had 
to  think.  Here  is  where  I  belong.  I  knew  it  long 
ago.  You  believe  I  should  come  to  your  mind,  but 
you  do  not  know  me.  When  the  glamour  is  past, — 
it  does  pass,  —  how  could  you  bear  it?  You  would 
chafe  and  fret  if  I  held  you  here.  I  should  be 
wretched  if  you  held  me  there.  Let  us  be  wise 
beforehand." 

"  Good  God  !  "  John  Ballantyne  said.  "  Can  you 
mean  that  a  mere  fancy  on  your  part  is  to  stand  be 
tween  us  ?  " 

The  words  were  ill  chosen.  Marion  looked  at 
him  proudly. 

"  If  I  give  that  name  to  your  own  feeling,  do  you 
count  it  just  ?  " 

"  But,  Marion,  my  darling,  don't  you  see  how 
different  the  case  is  ?  I  am  an  American  to  the  core, 
and  till  now  I  have  always  had  to  reject  my  birth 
right.  I  must  not,  I  cannot  in  honor,  do  it  longer. 
You  do  not  know  what  you  ask." 

"  I  ask  nothing,"  Marion  said.  "  I  am  not  an 
old  Greek,  trained  to  think  the  State  first  and  hu 
man  ties  of  small  account.  It  means  much  less  to 
me  than  life  as  I  can  make  it.  To  you  it  comes 
first." 

"  But  it  is  the  same  really  for  both.     You  are  let- 


BALLANTYNE  171 

ting  England  divide  us,  when  there  is  no  question  of 
natural  allegiance,  only  this  mysterious  dislike,  preju 
dice,  call  it  what  you  will,  inconceivable  to  me,  even 
when  I  seek  most  thoroughly  to  put  myself  in  your 
place.  I  must  go  home.  I  must  take  my  place 
where  I  belong.  Marion,  try  to  think  with  me. 
Think  what  it  means." 

"  I  cannot  change  my  thought  at  will.  It  has 
grown  in  me  no  less  surely  than  yours  in  you.  It  is 
useless,  John.  You  must  go  your  way  till  your  own 
eyes  have  seen,  and  then  —  " 

"  You  are  incomprehensible,"  he  said,  hotly.  u  If 
you  love  at  all,  how  can  you  for  one  instant  palter 
with  it  so  ?  " 

"  And  you  ?  "  she  said,  a  trifle  bitterly.  "  It 
is  the  woman's  part  to  yield,  I  suppose,  but 
the  thing  in  me  that  speaks  is  my  inmost  sense.  I 
have  thought  of  it  ever  since  I  left  you." 

"  You  knew  I  loved  you,  Marion.  You  must 
have  known  it  from  the  beginning." 

"  Yes,  I  knew  it,"  Marion  said  simply,  and  again 
he  caught  her  to  himself. 

"You  knew  it.  You  did  not  put  away  the 
thought.  There  is  only  one  ending  where  love  has 
come  like  that." 

"  In  Arcadia,  no,"  said  Marion.  "  We  are  not  in 
Arcadia.  We  are  children  of  to-day.  Do  you  think 
I  will  break  your  heart  by  holding  you  to  a  thing  you 
would  detest  no  less  than  I  should  detest  what  you 
demand  ?  No.  We  are  set  apart.  You  must  go 


172  BALLANTYNE 

your  way.     I  love  you,  but  I  will  not  hamper  your 
life  or  my  own." 

"  My  God  !  Marion  !  "  he  said  with  a  groan,  for 
she  had  turned  from  him  as  if  to  go.  "  Have  I  not 
suffered  enough  ?  Do  you  mean  to  break  my 
heart  ?  " 

"You  will  break  mine  if  you  go  on.  I  cannot 
bear  it,"  she  said.  "  I  am  made  to  tell  you  this. 
Is  n't  it  better  to  know  it  now  than  to  find  ourselves 
hopelessly  at  odds  afterward  ?  " 

"Then  compromise,"  he  said,  eagerly.  "I  must 
go,  you  know,  but  I  will  return.  Not  to  stay,  no, 
not  to  stay,"  for  her  face  had  lightened.  u  You  your 
self  may  change.  In  any  case,  Marion,  I  implore 
you  call  yourself  mine  till  the  year  is  over,  and  let  me 
have  the  thought  to  live  on  till  I  come  back  to  you." 

Marion  looked  at  him  silently,  her  face  pale  as  his, 
and  met  the  tender,  ardent  eyes  drawing  her  to  him 
with  a  power  so  mighty  that  she  flung  out  her  hands 
with  a  cry. 

u  No,  no !  I  must  not.  I  will  not.  Be  free. 
Leave  me  free.  You  will  not  change,  nor  I.  I  tell 
you  we  are  set  apart,  and  by  your  own  will." 

"  Call  it  so  if  you  will,"  he  said  at  last,  after  a 
silence  in  which  he  searched  her  face  in  anguish,  that 
gave  place  to  fixed  and  quiet  resolution,  a  look  she 
knew  well.  u  You  cannot  alter  what  is.  I  shall 
come  back  to  you,  and  you  will  have  to  listen  once 
more.  God  grant  you  then  better  knowledge  of 
what  love  means.  Be  free  as  you  like.  I  would  not 


BALLANTYNE  173 

be  if  I  could.  I  am  yours  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  and 
till  they  dissolve  I  must  be  so.  Good-bye,  Marion." 

For  another  moment  he  held  her  in  his  arms  and 
kissed  her  solemnly,  tenderly,  as  if  death  were  parting 
them.  Then  he  turned  silently  and  went  through 
the  mist  down  the  way  to  the  valley,  and  Marion  sat 
there  till  the  sound  of  his  footsteps  on  the  rocky  path 
had  died  away,  and  she  knew  that  she  was  alone. 
Right  or  wrong,  it  was  done.  The  old  Puritan 
doggedness  and  insistence,  its  morbid  conscience,  its 
analysis  and  self-dissection,  each  and  all  in  her  in 
heritance,  had  worked  together  and  driven  from  her 
what  she  knew  well  to  be  the  best  gift  life  would 
ever  offer. 

"  It  was  for  him,  for  him,"  she  said  at  last,  and 
wrung  her  hands,  yet  in  the  saying  doubted  her 
self,  and  so  doubting  went  her  way  though  the  mist, 
following  in  footprints  soon  divided  from  her  own, 
and  leading  far  beyond  any  path  her  feet  might 
follow. 


Book  II 

Chapter   First 


EARLY    September    brought    with    it    the 
winds  of  later  autumn,  and  the  passage 
was   so   stormy  that,  for  a   day  or  two, 
Ballantyne,    heartily     against     his    will, 
kept  his   berth  and  yielded  to  the  enemy.      On  the 
third  he  staggered  out,  and  up  to  the  deck,  on  which 
a  fine  rain  fell  steadily,  sky  and  sea  alike  merged  in 
the  long  stretch   of  gray,   through   which  the   great 
ship  forged  uneasily  ahead  on  the  long  slow  swell  of 
the  waves  through  which  she  ploughed. 

Even  rain  was  welcome  after  the  close  state-room, 
whose  port-hole  the  steward  obstinately  refused  to 
open,  with  dark  tales  of  what  had  happened  to  ob 
stinate  passengers  who  would  have  more  air  than 
the  ship's  rules  allowed,  and  who  had  been  swept  out 
of  berths,  and  otherwise  knocked  about  by  intruding 
and  unexpected  waves. 

For  a  time  he  walked,  seeking  the  sea  legs  he  had 
been  advised  to  find,  and  gradually  learning  how  to 
adjust  himself  to  the  motion,  though  he  was  forced 
to  intersperse  it  with  occasional  wild  clutches  at 


BALLANTYNE  175 

ropes  or  railing,  and  sudden  certainties  that  with  this 
last  lurch  or  plunge  she  had  certainly  overdone  it, 
and  must  be  on  the  way  to  the  bottom.  Memory 
was  there,  too,  of  the  wild  days  and  wilder  nights, 
burned  into  every  fibre  of  recollection,  by  his 
mother's  insistent  repetition.  He  had  dreaded  his 
own  possible  involuntary  terror  of  the  sea,  as  some 
thing  utterly  unmanly  and  contemptible,  and  rejoiced 
as  he  found  that  freedom  had  come  and  that  he 
faced  it  with  an  indifference,  born,  it  might  be,  of 
later  and  sharper  sorrow,  which  now  he  resolutely 
shut  away. 

The  ship  was  crowded  with  returning  tourists, 
most  of  them  at  present  given  over  to  seasickness, 
a  fact  rather  desirable  than  otherwise,  since  it  left 
him  quite  free  to  pursue  his  own  thoughts.  By 
noon,  however,  there  were  faint  gleams  of  sunshine, 
and  he  went  in  to  lunch  reluctantly,  taking  the  place 
assigned  with  little  note  of  his  neighbors,  till,  a  few 
moments  later,  when  a  pair  entered  and  took  places 
opposite  him,  the  elder  bowing  easily  with  a  suave 
and  comprehensive  good  will  which  produced  upon 
Ballantyne,  for  some  inscrutable  reason,  a  peculiarly 
irritating  effect,  a  certain  pervading  unctuousness, 
being  singularly  offensive. 

"A  Mormon  elder,"  he  said  to  himself,  after  a 
moment's  observation.  "  Very  like  the  extraordinary 
one  that  argued  his  case  before  the  Fabians.  And 
yet  —  " 

The  doubt  in  his  own  mind  increased  as  the  voice 


176  BALLANTYNE 

went  on,  a  deep  contralto,  he  would  have  called  it, 
in  a  woman,  full  of  soft,  rich  inflections  and  sudden 
rises  and  falls,  to  which  the  restless  hands  kept  time. 
In  spite  of  the  instinctive  shrinking  which  struck 
him  as  absolutely  unreasonable,  Ballantyne  could  not 
but  watch  the  singular  being,  the  doubt  always  a 
little  stronger.  There  are  men  in  whom  the  femi 
nine  is  always  uppermost.  There  are  women  whose 
masculine  quality  is  in  every  act.  In  this  case  the 
blending  was  so  balanced,  that  he  had  felt  at  first  only 
the  momentary  uncertainty,  which  had  no  real  reason. 
But  as  he  looked  there  came,  precisely  why  or  how 
he  could  not  have  told,  a  conviction  so  strong  that  he 
sat  back  suddenly  as  if  he  had  received  an  electric 
shock. 

"  Great  Heavens !  it  is  a  woman !  "  He  had 
nearly  said  it  aloud.  "  It  is  a  woman,  and  yet  —  " 

"  And  yet,"  he  was  forced  to  add  again,  as  half  an 
hour  later  the  pair  rose  and  made  their  way  toward 
their  state-room.  In  that  half-hour  a  dozen  convic 
tions  had  come  and  gone.  A  Mormon  elder,  a 
Franciscan  monk  out  on  a  holiday,  an  artist  who 
chose  to  masquerade,  a  woman  warrior  of  the  days 
of  Tacitus,  reincarnated,  a  diplomat  whose  eyes  saw 
everything  and  whose  tongue  told  only  what  he 
wished.  It  was  an  extraordinary  head ;  masculine 
beyond  doubt.  The  thick,  crisp,  close-cut  flaxen 
hair,  parted  at  one  side,  had  no  accompanying  pink 
and  white  suggestion  in  complexion.  The  brows 
were  strong  and  dark,  the  eyes  dark,  yet  with  hazel 


BA  LLANTYNE  177 

lights,  and  a  distinct  touch  of  yellow  in  one,  yet  the 
power  in  them  was  contradicted  by  their  unceasing 
restless  scrutiny  of  all  before  them.  The  hands 
were  peculiarly  small  and  white,  and  used  incessantly 
in  gesture,  as  their  owner  talked  rapidly  and  low  with 
his  companion,  who  answered  languidly  as  if  still 
oppressed  by  illness. 

UA  noble  head,"  Ballantyne  thought,  noting  the 
firm  white  neck  and  the  fine  pose  of  that  and  the 
shoulders.  The  brown  robe,  of  monk  it  might  be, 
shrouded  the  form  completely,  yet  it  might  be  no  less 
the  modification  by  feminine  caprice  of  a  garment 
more  practically  comfortable  for  a  long  sea  voyage,  than 
any  modern  ulster  or  close-fitting  coat.  Rope  and 
rosary  were  banished,  a  heavy  cord  on  both  hood  and 
as  girdle  carrying  out  the  scheme.  In  any  case  it  was 
efficient  disguise.  Long  ago  Ballantyne,  in  watching 
Rosa  Bonheur  at  work,  had  recognized  in  her  the  rare 
type  found  here  and  there  in  all  nations,  —  that  in 
which  all  perception  of  distinctive  sex  has  vanished, 
only  the  look,  nobly  human,  remaining.  In  such  case 
richest  life  has  been  lived,  high  thought,  noble  deed 
have  moulded  form  and  feature  till  they  are  of  no 
time,  but  of  a  significance  bearing  the  same  interpre 
tation  for  ancient  and  modern.  Such  life  made  the 
story  of  this  head,  had  not  the  eyes  denied  much  that 
it  seemed  to  signify.  This  man  in  whom  strange 
touches  of  woman  quality  showed  at  every  turn,  — 
this  woman  in  whom  the  man  was  uppermost,  which 
was  it,  and  how  should  one  determine  ?  The  nation- 

12 


178  BALLANTYNE 

ality  was  equally  a  puzzle.  Russian  he  thought  for 
a  time,  noting  the  strong  resemblance  to  one  of  the 
best  known,  women  in  the  Russian  colony  in  London, 
then,  in  surprise,  German  after  all,  as  the  low  voice 
rose  presently  and  showed  that  as  the  language  spoken. 
But  as  a  stray  Frenchman,  with  the  unhappy  look 
most  travelling  Frenchmen  wear,  entered  and  took  his 
place  near  them  he  was  greeted  in  his  own  tongue  so 
irreproachably  that  Ballantyne  returned  to  his  first 
conclusion. 

u  A  man,  of  course.  A  polyglot  elder ;  all  things  to 
all  men.  I  hope  there  are  no  women  in  his  troupe, 
poor  things." 

He  watched  the  exit  from  the  dining  saloon.  The 
step  was  free  in  spite  of  the  long  robe,  the  movement 
of  one  accustomed  to  active  life.  There  was  even  a 
hint  of  martial  carriage,  a  set  of  the  shoulders  that 
seemed  to  speak  of  drill.  This  was  often  seen  in  mon 
asteries,  and  thus  it  seemed  simple  enough  that  the  once 
soldier  should  bear  the  monk's  robe  more  demonstra 
tively  than  the  cause  demanded.  Ballantyne  returned 
to  the  deck  a  little  irritated  at  the  persistence  with 
which  the  problem  presented  itself,  and  went  down  in 
time  to  dinner,  determined  to  drop  a  matter  which 
had  no  possible  concern  for  him.  The  pair  were  al 
ready  there.  Ballantyne  bowed  as  he  took  his  place, 
and  his  vis-a-vis,  taking  this  for  an  overture,  instantly 
opened  conversation  in  English  no  less  perfect  than 
his  German.  Ballantyne  had  more  than  once  caught 
his  eyes  fixed  intently  upon  him,  and  shrunk  inwardly 


BALLANTYNE  179 

from  a  certain  power  they  contained.  It  was  evident 
they  could  weigh  and  measure ;  that  they  knew  what 
to  seek  and  how  to  seek,  and  that  they  were  not  ac 
customed  to  any  final  thwarting  of  will,  no  matter 
what  obstacles  might  lie  between  beginning  and  end 
of  a  quest.  All  the  more  he  disliked  and  distrusted 
them,  and  in  spite  of  many  advances  held  himself 
aloof,  watching  the  effect  on  the  young  man  not  much 
beyond  boyhood,  who  listened  to  each  word  with  fas 
cinated  absorption. 

This  was  a  type  more  familiar  but  hardly  less 
marked.  He  had  seen  it  among  some  of  the  Oxford 
men,  but  never  before  so  fine  or  strong.  The  whole 
upper  head  was  magnificently  developed,  the  brow 
noble  in  every  line,  and  the  deep-set  eyes  were  gray, 
with  a  curious  unworldliness  and  innocence  in  their 
look,  accented  by  the  waving  brown  hair.  Chin  and 
mouth  were  sensitive  and  almost  weak,  but  the  nose 
had  energy  sufficient  to  override  their  indications.  A 
little  under  medium  height,  the  figure  was  firm  and 
well  knit,  but  face  and  figure  alike  were  that  of  scholar 
and  dreamer,  not  man  of  action. 

"  What  will  the  elder  do  with  him  ?  "  Ballantyne 
thought ;  and  day  by  day  he  wondered  more,  attracted 
against  his  will,  since  the  talk  ran  always  in  lines, 
once  most  beloved,  but,  since  his  college  days,  well 
nigh  driven  out  of  mind  by  crowding  claims  of  new 
work.  Green  of  Oxford  was  the  prophet  whose  flag 
the  younger  man  bore,  but  the  elder  answered  him 
always  with  another  name  quite  unknown;  and  as 


i8o  BALLANTYNE 

Ballantyne  heard  incessantly,  "But  this  is  Donato's 
view.  Now  listen  to  what  Donato  has  shown  con 
clusively  is  so,  and  so,  and  so,"  he  gave  an  involuntary 
attention  which  the  elder  man  was  quick  to  mark. 

Gradually,  and  always  against  his  inward  will,  he 
was  drawn  in,  and  found  himself  with  them  on  deck 
eagerly  discussing  subtle  points,  and  daily  more  and 
more  impressed  by  the  mass  of  knowledge  on  which 
the  elder  drew  for  illustration  or  final  clinching  of  his 
flood  of  argument. 

Pendleton  Morris  for  the  elder,  Thomas  Percival 
for  the  younger,  he  soon  found  were  the  thoroughly 
English  names  of  his  companions,  though  now  and 
then  a  sudden  rolling  r  betrayed  a  possible  touch  of 
Celt  in  the  former's  make-up. 

The  worship  in  Percival's  eyes  not  only  interested 
but  often  touched  Ballantyne  profoundly.  He  hung 
on  the  words  of  the  elder  man  as  a  woman  listens 
where  her  whole  heart  is  given.  It  carried  even  a 
demand  in  its  quality,  as  if  this  woman-side  made  its 
unconscious  appeal  for  shielding  and  protection. 
Within  a  day  or  so  it  became  plain  also  that  he  had  a 
rival,  for  the  young  Frenchman  had  yielded  to  the 
spell  which  Morris  seemed  able  to  exert  at  will,  and 
hung  upon  him  with  a  more  demonstrative  absorption 
than  Percival  showed.  Ethics  and  philosophy  were 
by  no  means  his  forte.  He  resented  the  time  spent 
upon  them,  but  his  blue  eyes  gleamed  as  he  declaimed 
Hugo  and  De  Musset,  and  Ballantyne  found  to  his 
amazement  that  French  poetry  old  and  new  were  no 


BALLANTYNE  181 

less  a  part  of  his  elder's  equipment,  and  that  he 
responded  to  each  hint  of  his  new  recruit  with  an 
enthusiasm  and  energy  as  thorough  as  his  own. 

Whatever  motive  or  plan  might  be,  and  that  motive 
and  plan  were  always  there  Ballantyne  felt  certain, 
his  pure  delight  in  intellectual  quality  and  in  the  play 
of  his  own  wonderful  power  was  no  less  clear.  From 
early  morning,  far  into  the  night,  he  walked  the  deck 
or  sat  down  at  random  to  expound  lustily  some  new 
point,  and  when  with  him  Ballantyne  yielded  more 
and  more  to  the  charm  exerted,  only  when  alone 
reverting  to  the  earlier  impression. 

As  time  went  on,  and  the  tables  and  deck  began  to 
be  filled,  the  restless  red-brown  eyes  roved  over  the 
passengers,  pausing  here  and  there  in  approval,  but 
for  the  most  part  with  thinly  veiled  contempt. 

"  One  learns  to  classify  quickly  at  last,"  he  said 
one  day,  noting  Ballantyne's  eyes  upon  him.  "  In  a 
hundred  there  may  be  three,  well  if  there  be  one,  who 
has  mind  and  soul  enough  to  be  moved  by  the  highest 
thought.  Look  for  yourself,  though  you  hardly  need 
that  injunction.  You  are  a  sharper  inquisitor  than  I. 
Now  confess  that  you  do  not  like  me ;  that  you  study 
me  and  are  doubtful,  yet  lean  to  mercy  in  spite  of 
yourself." 

He  looked  at  him  with  the  smile,  apparently  frank, 
in  which  the  eyes  this  time  had  part,  a  fact  not  always 
the  case.  Now  they  flashed  merrily  as  he  met  Bal 
lantyne's  silent  look. 

"  Anglo-Saxon  to  the  marrow,"  he  said.     "  It  is 


i8a  BALLANTYNE 

the  instinctive  conflict  of  race,  perhaps  ;  the  old  story 
of  Scot  and  Saxon." 

"  Then  you  are  Scotch  ?  " 

"  Without  doubt,"  Morris  returned,  "  though  long 
wandering  has  made  me  a  citizen  of  the  world. 
Tongues  are  my  passion  no  less  than  people.  To 
understand  the  last  there  must  be  knowledge  of  the 
first.  So  I  have  lived  in  many  lands,  and  learned 
their  secrets  as  the  key  was  given.  It  is  Italy  that 
brought  me  Percival  here.  I  gather  my  recruits  where 
I  can." 

"Ah,"  Ballantyne  said,  the  words  convincing  him 
that  his  first  surmise  had  been  true.  "  Then  you 
carry  a  propaganda  with  you  ?  " 

"  Always." 

"  And  its  nature,  if  I  may  ask." 

"  Knowledge.  I  want  only  those  who  would 
know." 

"  What  ?  " 

"  Life,  law,  themselves.  Look  about  you.  How 
many  men  or  women  here  carry  with  them  expression 
or  possibility  of  such  desire  ?  Are  they  not  all  plainly 
in  the  state  that  Plato  bewailed,  and  what  better  word 
for  them  than  his  ?  c  Is  not  a  soul  to  be  deemed  halt 
and  lame  who  hates  voluntary  falsehood,  and  is  ex 
tremely  indignant  at  himself  and  others  when  they  tell 
lies,  and  yet  receives  involuntary  falsehood,  and  does 
not  mind  wallowing  like  a  swinish  beast  in  the  mire 
of  ignorance,  and  has  no  shame  of  being  detected  ?  ' 

"  That  is  true  for  the  masses  everywhere,"  Ballan- 


BALLANTYNE  183 

tyne  answered.  "  It  can  hardly  be  true  for  America, 
with  her  diffusion  of  knowledge  and  the  thought  that 
made  her  and  must  underlie  all  her  growth." 

"America's  chief  thought,  like  that  of  your  own 
country,  my  friend,"  said  Morris,  "  is  how  most 
quickly  to  pile  up  shekels.  I  went  to  America  twenty 
years  ago,  believing  that  such  thought  as  institutions 
of  men  in  this  day  could  hold  was  in  them.  It  was 
a  youthful  delusion.  If  you  seek  the  same,  go  back 
to  your  own  place  before  the  wound  comes  to  you 
that  came  to  me.  There  is  more  real  outreaching 
in  little  Italy,  this  hour,  among  her  best,  than  in  all 
the  great  Republic  so  near  us  now.  Take  a  return 
steamer,  unless  you  are  bent  on  seeing  for  yourself; 
but  if  you  will  see,  remember  that  you  were  warned." 

"  I  shall  not  turn  my  back  upon  my  own,"  Ballan- 
tyne  answered.  "  I  have  heard  such  words  before, 
but  I  cannot  accept  them.  Whatever  the  surface 
show  may  be,  my  country,  I  am  certain,  keeps  the 
inward  spring  still  clear." 

u  Your  country  ?  To-be,  you  must  mean.  You 
will  be  less  ready  for  nationalization  presently." 

"  I  do  not  need  it.     I  am  an  American." 

Percival  burst  into  a  ringing,  boyish  laugh  at  the 
utter  stupefaction  on  Morris's  countenance. 

"  Now  you  know  the  mental  state  of  our  German 
friend,"  he  said  ;  and  went  on  to  Ballantyne  :  "  We 
were  crossing  a  spur  of  the  Apennines  last  spring,  and 
fell  in  with  part  of  an  Italian  regiment,  so  we  marched 
with  them  and  talked.  Morris  knows  a  lot  of  Italian 


1 84  BALLANTYNE 

dialects,  and  talked  with  this  one  and  that  and  a  stray 
Spaniard  as  well.  A  German  officer  joined  us  after  a 
bit,  and  I  fell  into  that  tongue  till  he  got  too  much  for 
me,  and  I  called  on  Morris  to  explain  some  shade  of 
meaning  I  had  not  caught.  The  German  listened  for 
a  moment  amazed  at  his  expounding,  and  then  held  up 
his  hands.  c  Ach,  Gott  ?  Was  fur  ein  Landsmann 
ist  das  ? '  he  said.  But  I  am  surprised  as  he.  You 
have  no  American  accent." 

"I  have  lived  in  England  since  early  childhood," 
said  Ballantyne,  hastily.  "  Now  I  am  returning  home 
to  my  own  place." 

u  You  have  friends  and  relatives  on  this  side,  of 
course  ?  " 

"  Next  to  none,  and  none  that  I  know.  I  return 
because  I  belong  here,  not  because  any  specific  in 
terests  or  obligations  of  family  call  me." 

A  quick  glance  passed  between  Morris  and  Perci- 
val,  not  unnoted  by  Ballantyne ;  but  at  this  point, 
Regnault,  whose  English  was  very  imperfect,  con 
ceived  that  attention  had  long  enough  been  given  to 
others,  and  broke  in  with  some  demand  which  ended 
in  Percival's  descending  with  him  to  the  saloon.  Bal 
lantyne  had  turned  away  to  render  some  slight  service 
to  a  lady  near  him,  and  then  fell  to  pacing  the  deck 
again,  his  tall  figure  and  soldier-like  bearing  attract 
ing  admiring  glances  which  passed  quite  unmarked  by 
their  recipient. 

"  Marion  has  another  ally  in  this  strange  man,"  he 
thought.  "  It  is  most  singular,  this  conviction  which 


BALLANTYNE  185 

he  appears  to  think  as  inevitable  as  she,  that  only  dis 
appointment  waits  me.  So  be  it.  It  is  my  business 
to  face  it  whatever  it  is." 

His  eyes  wandered  as  he  went  to  a  group  near  the 
door  of  the  saloon  with  whom  Morris  was  evidently 
renewing  acquaintance,  —  an  elderly  lady  of  rather 
severe  and  critical  aspect,  ameliorated  by  a  distinct 
flavor  of  worldliness,  whose  face  thawed  but  slightly, 
though  thaw  was  evident  as  she  met  the  effusive 
greeting  of  Morris,  who  turned  then  to  the  younger 
pair  with  even  greater  flow  of  cordiality.  There 
was  a  ripple  of  laughter  and  a  flood  of  exclamations 
and  wonder,  hardly  over  when  Ballantyne  saw  that 
he  was  beckoned  to,  and,  much  against  his  will,  went 
forward  to  be  presented  at  once  to  mother  and  daugh 
ters,  there  being  no  doubt  whatever  as  to  the  Ameri 
can  accent  of  the  last.  Their  voices,  however,  were 
sweet  and  girlish,  and  he  found  himself  studying  their 
inflections,  while  they  in  turn  listened  to  him  with  a 
deference,  the  usual  American  instinct  toward  any 
well-defined  British  product. 

Morris  looked  on  mischievously,  delighted  at  their 
delusion  ;  and  they  chatted  till  Percival  and  Regnault 
reappeared,  to  be  promptly  presented  and  received 
with  only  a  shade  less  cordiality  than  had  greeted 
Ballantyne.  The  name,  Barstow,  he  was  sure  his 
mother  had  talked  of,  but  in  just  what  connection  he 
could  not  recall.  In  the  face  of  the  older  girl  was  an 
occasional  suggestion  of  Marion  ;  faint  and  intangible 
yet  evident,  and  even,  while  vaguely  resenting  its  pres- 


186  BALLANTYNE 

ence  there,  he  watched  eagerly  for  the  look  to  come. 
Mrs.  Barstow  talked  well  and  bandied  words  with 
Morris,  who,  to  his  surprise,  proved  to  have  a  reser 
voir  of  nonsense  adapted  to  precisely  such  encounters, 
and  laughed  delightedly  at  every  turn  of  the  swift 
talk.  It  was  impossible  not  to  share  it  all  and  even 
light-heartedly  for  the  time  being,  so  contagious  was 
the  abounding  vitality  and  cheer  of  this  mysterious 
man,  as  to  whom  question  and  perplexity  never 
ceased.  A  man  of  the  world  most  certainly,  and 
meeting  these  people  of  the  same  order  on  their 
own  ground,  yet,  if  words  meant  anything,  they  too 
summed  up  for  him  in  the  definition  he  had  quoted. 
He  changed  countenance  slightly  as  he  chanced  to 
meet  Ballantyne's  scrutinizing  look,  and  as  he  passed 
him  later  on  the  deck  said,  hastily  : 

"  Philistines  all,  but  the  best  of  their  kind.  They 
are  one  of  the  first  families  in  Boston.  You  cannot 
know  better.  If  that  were  your  part  of  the  country, 
now,"  —  he  paused  interrogatively,  —  "  you  could  be 
coached  beyond  belief.  The  old  lady  there  has  every 
pedigree  at  her  fingers'  ends." 

"  Pedigree  ?  "  returned  Ballantyne,  in  some  amaze 
ment  ;  but  Morris  had  shot  back  to  his  post,  and  was 
bowing  and  smiling  and  gesticulating  with  abnormal 
facility,  and  he  joined  them  again  presently,  to  listen 
to  joint  reminiscences  of  a  Roman  winter,  and  at  last 
to  an  analysis  of  all  to  be  expected  on  a  return  to 
Boston  after  a  year's  absence. 

"  Of  course  it  will   and  must  seem  a  little  crude," 


BALLANTYNE  187 

Mrs.  Barstow  said,  decisively.  "  That  we  are  pre 
pared  for,  though  I  confess  there  are  certain  compen 
sations.  Boston  is  more  English  than  anything  you 
will  find  among  us,"  she  added,  turning  to  Ballantyne, 
who  bowed  gravely. 

"  I  had  supposed  and  hoped  that  it  would  be  more 
genuinely  American  than  any  other  point,"  he  said. 
"  Perhaps  you  mean,  however,  that  it  preserves  more 
of  the  early  spirit,  and  is  thus  a  repetition  of  that 
phase  of  English  force  that  founded  it  in  the 
beginning." 

"  Hardly,"  returned  the  lady,  slightly  puzzled. 
"  Of  course  the  old  families  are  devoted  to  anything 
belonging  to  those  early  days.  But  I  hardly  meant 
that.  It  is  modern  England  of  which  I  was  thinking." 

Ballantyne's  eyes  rested  on  her  with  a  look  she 
could  not  understand. 

"  Then  the  American  idea  is  dying  out  ?  "  he  said. 

"  The  American  idea  ?  "  repeated  the  elder  girl, 
with  a  little  raising  of  her  eyebrows.  "  I  beg  pardon, 
but  you  have  been  reading  some  political  speech,  Mr. 
Ballantyne." 

Ballantyne's  eyes  darkened. 

"  It  is  difficult  for  me  to  understand  American 
indifference,"  he  said.  "To  belong  to  America 
seems  to  me  so  dear  a  birthright,  that  I  find  what  I 
must  count  as  a  fad  merely,  incomprehensible.  An 
Italian,  a  Frenchman,  disdains  the  thought  of  claim 
ing  any  other  country  for  himself.  Are  you,  with 
your  noble  inheritance,  less  patriotic  than  they  ? " 


i88  BALLANTYNE 

"  Aggressive  Americanism  —  the  kind  Dickens 
found  with  us  —  has  gone  out  since  good  taste  be 
came  more  general,"  said  Mrs.  Barstow,  severely. 
"  It  was  never  so  rampant  as  he  gave  you  to  under 
stand,  but  his  associations  were,  while  here,  most 
miscellaneous,  unhappily  so." 

"  As  I  intend  mine  to  be,"  said  Ballantyne,  quietly. 
"  The  Major  Pogram  type,  I  suppose,  may  still  exist, 
but  there  must  be  some  remnant  of  another,  —  that 
of  the  American  citizen  who  is  not  ashamed  to 
honor  his  native  land." 

"Oh,  certainly,  certainly,"  Mrs.  Barstow  returned, 
nervously,  embarrassed  by  a  significant  look  from 
Morris ;  and  Ballantyne,  hot  with  indignation,  left 
them  shortly,  with  a  slight  inclination  which  the 
daughters  pronounced  deliciously  English. 

"  Most  extraordinary,"  the  mother  murmured. 
"What  has  he  been  reading  or  hearing  that  has 
given  him  such  a  set  of  ideas  !  " 

She  looked  suspiciously  at  Morris,  whose  counte 
nance  wore  its  most  childlike  and  candid  expression, 
but  he  gave  her  no  enlightenment.  Now  and  then, 
as  he  chatted,  he  cast  a  reflective  glance  toward 
Ballantyne,  who  had  settled  into  his  steamer  chair 
with  a  book,  and  presently  he  left  the  group  and 
descended  to  his  state-room.  Land  was  within  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  there  were  words  still  to  be  spoken 
that  needed  more  of  the  thought  he  had  already 
given. 


Chapter    Second 


BALLANTYNE,  who  had  argued  himself 
into  repentance  for  a  show  of  feeling,  too 
much  on  the  order  of  breaking  a  butter 
fly,   gave    another    hour   of    after-dinner 
chat  to  the   Boston  party,  who  went  be 
low  as  the  wind  freshened, —  a  wind  that  urged  them 
forward,  and  that  would  send  them  by  early  morning 
easily  into  port. 

A  keen  excitement  throbbed  in  his  veins,  of  which 
his  quiet  face  gave  no  token.  To  sleep  was  impossi 
ble,  and  he  paced  up  and  down  the  deck  more  and 
more  restless.  He  began  to  realize  now  his  practical 
aimlessness.  No  fixed  plans  had  been  made  beyond 
the  immediate  journey  to  Nantucket  and  the  laying 
his  mother  among  their  own  kin,  and  now  he  strove 
to  settle  definitely  his  course  for  the  coming  months. 

After  Nantucket,  what  ?  A  cousin  in  St.  Louis 
and  one  in  Chicago  were  possible  objective  points, 
and  Boston  certainly  held  kinsfolk,  who,  however,  if 
they  shared  the  development  which  had  expatriated 
Marion  and  spoke  in  the  words  of  the  Barstow  family, 
could  hardly  aid  him  in  the  acquirement  of  any  real 
knowledge. 


1 9o  BALLANTYNE 

From  day  to  day  he  had  looked  curiously  at  the 
men  on  board,  finding  a  large  element  of  prosperous, 
comfortable,  well-fed  subjects,  differing  little,  save  for 
a  slightly  more  alert  expression,  from  the  same  class  in 
London.  He  had  met  their  order  season  after  season, 
and  knew  well  what  they  represented.  He  had  knowl 
edge  no  less  accurate  of  the  more  aggressive  and  pushing 
type,  the  American,  for  his  own  generation  incurably, 
ineradicably  vulgar,  but  leaving  behind  him  an  ameli 
orated  product,  —  a  generation  often  developing  into 
finer  forms.  How  it  would  be  to  deal  with  them  in 
the  mass  he  hardly  dared  to  consider. 

For  the  moment  the  temptation  came  upon  him  to 
travel  as  Englishman  rather  than  American,  and  take 
the  side  presented  to  him  in  this  way,  letting  his  own 
conclusions  rule,  but  accepting  what  people  seemed 
ready  to  offer  as  their  own  estimate  of  the  thing  to  be 
judged. 

"  Evidently  I  am  to  be  both,"  he  thought  at  last, 
indignation  and  amusement  contending  within  him, 
"  and  thus  have  a  double  opportunity  of  seeing  both 
sides  of  everything." 

He  looked  up  as  he  ended,  and  saw  Percival  making 
his  way  toward  him. 

"  May  I  join  you  ?  "  he  said  in  his  gentle  voice,  as 
he  came  nearer.  "  The  last  night  out  is  fairly  certain 
to  be  a  restless  one,  and  I  am  as  curious  as  you  must 
be  to  know  what  this  strange  land  has  to  offer.  I 
heard  an  American  a  few  minutes  ago  insist  that  he 
had  caught  in  some  cross-current  of  wind  the  perfume 


BALLANTYNE  191 

of  ripe  cornfields,  something  purely  American,  he 
claimed,  but  I  was  not  competent  to  judge." 

"  It  is  your  first  crossing,  then  ?  "  Ballantyne  asked, 
wondering  how  he  happened  to  be  alone,  and  also  at 
a  very  perceptible  nervousness  of  manner  which  he 
was  evidently  trying  to  shake  off. 

"  Yes,  the  first,"  he  said,  after  a  moment,  and 
went  on  :  "  We  all  part  so  soon  that  I  want  to  say 
one  or  two  things  that  have  been  uppermost  in  my 
mind  ever  since  our  real  talks  began.  Morris  always 
objected,  and  said  there  was  time  enough ;  but  this  is 
my  affair  really,  rather  than  his.  I  want  you  to  join 
us.  Not  at  once,  for  I  understand  you  intend  to 
travel  somewhat ;  but  after  a  little.  I  want  you  to 
think  of  us  as  representing  something  you  may  by 
and  by  like  to  look  at;  as  representing  something 
you  may  be  glad  even  to  fall  back  upon." 

He  had  lost  all  nervousness  as  he  spoke,  and 
looked  at  Ballantyne  with  his  clear  eyes  as  if  he 
had  the  right  to  expect  interest. 

"  What  is  '  us  '  ?  "  the  latter  asked. 

"  A  community  to  be  ;  now,  only  a  few  of  like 
mind.  '  The  Brotherhood  of  the  New  Day.'  " 

u  I  know  no  new  day,"  Ballantyne  answered,  slowly. 
u  The  best  things  in  any  generation  have  been  from 
the  beginning.  The  name  itself  is  an  exclusion  of 
our  whole  inheritance." 

"  But  you  must  grant,"  Percival  said,  eagerly,  "  that 
all  progress  consists  in  a  modification,  a  rearrangement 
of  old  forms  into  newer,  more  available  shape.  The 


192  BALLANTYNE 

many  cleave  to  the  old,  are  bound  by  custom  and 
tradition,  and  remain  bond  slaves  till  death.  This  is 
one  class ;  and  rich  and  poor  alike  are  in  it,  because 
it  includes  all  the  unthinking.  Then  comes  the  pure 
materialist,  who  wants  nothing,  and  affirms  nothing 
beyond  what  his  microscope  or  his  chemical  tests  will 
give  him.  In  his  own  fashion  he  is  no  less  bound 
than  the  first.  Last,  you  have  the  few  to  whom 
insight  has  been  granted,  and  who  must  work  together 
toward  such  ends  as  it  is  possible  to  realize.  There 
is  no  less  chance  for  high  purpose,  for  consecration, 
than  in  those  elder  days  we  count  so  precious  and  so 
impossible  to  reproduce." 

"  But  this  is  the  aim  of  the  church ;  of  unions 
of  all  sorts,  from  socialism  up  and  down,"  said  Bal- 
lantyne.  "  Why  do  you  need  a  fresh  organization  or 
revamping  of  names  ?  " 

"  Because  the  time  has  come  when  the  few  who 
know  must  band  together  and  live  their  lives  un 
touched  by  the  mass  of  lower  aims.  The  church, 
you  must  know,  modern  philanthropy,  civilization,  as 
we  use  the  word,  each  and  all  are  benumbing,  dead 
ening  forces.  All  the  beauty  and  color  of  life  are 
washed  out  in  the  flood  of  dreary  common-schooling 
and  the  hideous  monotony  of  working  life.  We  want 
a  new  basis.  We  want  the  union  of  beauty  in  all  its 
most  glorious  forms,  with  a  life  of  service  and  high 
thought.  We  are  all  earners  as  well  as  students,  but 
we  believe  each  can  help  the  other." 
"  A  co-operative  scheme,  then  ?  " 


BALLANTYNE  193 

u  Yes,  in  part,  but  differing  from  the  ordinary 
communal  arrangement  in  that  we  affirm  our  own 
individuality,  and  the  rights  of  each  as  against  the 
tyranny  of  any  whole.  It  is  a  declaration  of  freedom 
we  sign,  not  a  contract  of  subjection  to  the  many." 

"  You  have  tried  it,  then  ?  " 

"  Not  here ;  no.  But  there  is  a  small  society  in 
London  which  owes  its  life  to  Morris's  theory. 
We  worked  it  out  together  in  Italy,  or  rather  he 
worked  it  out,  allowing  me  to  follow  his  thought ; 
and  I  went  back  for  a  winter  and  began  in  his  lines, 
after  he  had  himself  been  with  us  a  short  time  and 
laid  the  foundations.  It  aims  to  include  the  advan 
tage  of  monastic  seclusion  in  freedom  for  thought 
and  study,  without  the  monastic  incubus  of  religious 
formalism,  and  with  the  family  permitted  or  not 
excluded,  though  the  time  for  that  has  not  yet  come, 
I  believe." 

u  Then  women  have  a  future  rather  than  a  present 
share  ?  " 

Percival  looked  up  hastily.  Something  in  Bal- 
lantyne's  tone  struck  him  as  peculiar,  and  the  steady 
eyes  fixed  upon  his  face  held  something  he  could 
not  fathom. 

"  He  knows  nothing.  Perhaps  I  do  not  know 
myself,"  was  Ballantyne's  inward  comment.  "  I 
am  more  certain  and  less  certain  with  every  day." 

"  Women  ?  "  Percival  said,  a  little  vaguely.  "  Oh, 
yes.  There  are  a  housekeeper  and  maids,  of  course. 
But  now  that  you  know  a  little  of  our  aims,  will  you 

13 


BALLANTYNE 


not  come  and  see  for  yourself?  The  place  is  back 
of  New  York  somewhere;  Morris  will  tell  you;  an 
old  house  he  found  in  his  tramps  through  what,  he 
says,  is  an  unknown  country.  It  is  easy  of  access, 
as  it  would  have  to  be  for  his  lectures." 

"  Then  he  lectures  ?      On  what  ?  " 

"  Did  you  not  know  it  ?  "  Percival  asked,  in  sur 
prise.  "  He  has  two  specialties,  —  Greek  art  and 
Italian  philosophy.  He  is  a  remarkable  linguist." 

"  Does  that  bring  with  it  comprehension  of  an 
cient  art  ?  "  Ballantyne  asked,  with  an  irritation  he 
recognized  as  quite  unreasonable. 

"  With  a  common  man  it  might  make  against  it," 
Percival  answered,  simply.  u  He  has  the  gifts  of  a 
host.  He  has  lived  in  Greece,  and  belongs  to  all  the 
archaeological  societies  as  an  accepted  authority,  and 
he  knows  Rome  also,  almost  as  well  as  Lanciani  him 
self.  He  has  studied  in  Italian  monasteries ;  lived 
with  the  monks,  and  knows  more  of  mediaeval  phi 
losophy,  church  and  otherwise,  than  any  man  alive. 
One  canto  of  Dante  with  him  gives  you  the  heart  of 
the  Middle  Ages.  I  have  felt  that  you  did  not  under 
stand  him.  Many  do  not,  and  I  wanted  you  to  know 
the  purity  of  his  aims  and  something  of  what  you 
would  hardly  gather  from  him  save  incidentally." 

"  He  is  fortunate  in  his  friends,"  Ballantyne  said 
with  compunction,  as  the  absurdity  of  his  prejudice 
again  came  over  him.  "  But  you  are  bringing  in 
alien  elements  to  a  country  whose  gospel  is  to  the 
poor.  It  seems  to  me  anti-American." 


BALLANTYNE  195 

"  On  the  contrary,"  Percival  replied,  eagerly,  "  it 
is  because  Morris  believes  in  the  restoration  of  the 
original  American  idea;  because  he  feels  that  the 
sense  of  what  a  real  citizenship  involves  and  means 
must  be  learned  again,  that  he  would  bring  together 
men  who  can  be  trained  to  understanding  of  what  a 
state  implies.  I  am  ardently  republican  in  thought. 
I  could  not  tolerate  a  scheme  that  excluded  it.  At 
least  come  for  a  little  and  see  what  we  mean." 

"Very  well,"  Ballantyne  answered,  moved  and 
drawn,  as  he  had  been  from  the  beginning,  by  the 
personal  quality  of  the  speaker,  "  I  will  come.  You 
may  depend  upon  it,"  for  Percival  had  looked  at  him 
with  a  little  doubt.  "  You  must  tell  me  how  to  find 
you.  It  will  be  interesting  to  see  how  you  are  work 
ing  out  your  scheme.  Your  share  at  least  can  mean 
nothing  but  good." 

"  Whatever  it  means,  or  may  mean,  owes  any 
good  in  it  first  of  all  to  Morris,"  he  said,  earnestly. 
He  had  searched  for  a  card,  and  now  they  exchanged 
addresses,  and  parted  for  what  remained  of  the  night. 
Fog  veiled  the  harbor,  as  they  steamed  slowly  in 
the  next  morning,  and  thus  prevented  any  impres 
sions  but  those  of  discomfort ;  and  in  the  general 
confusion  of  landing,  the  delay  of  custom-house,  and 
all  that  torments  the  newly  arrived,  he  chose  a  hotel 
almost  at  random.  Firm  ground  was  a  luxury  suf 
ficient  for  the  hour;  but  after  lunch,  energy  awak 
ened,  and  he  gave  the  afternoon  to  verifying  certain 
memories,  possession  of  which  he  had  felt  must  be 


i96  BALLANTYNE 

his.  A  pocket-map  aided  him  when  once  the  points 
of  the  compass  were  settled,  and  thus  it  happened 
that,  having  wandered  into  the  neighborhood  of 
Louisburg  Square,  he  suddenly  recalled  that  one  of 
the  old  household  lived  here  —  a  cousin  of  his  father's, 
whose  occasional  letters  his  mother  had  always  dreaded, 
since  their  charm  made  another  strand  in  the  slender 
cord  that  bound  them  to  America. 

A  year  or  more  had  passed  without  word  of  any 
sort,  and  he  rang  the  bell  and  asked  for  Mrs.  LeBaron, 
uncertain  even  as  to  whether  she  still  lived,  and  happy 
in  being  told  that  she  was  at  home  and  would  see 
him.  As  he  waited,  he  looked  about  with  vivid 
curiosity.  A  work-basket  in  a  corner  was  the  only 
token  of  feminine  occupation.  For  the  rest,  it  was 
the  room  of  student  and  book  lover,  a  few  good 
pictures  and  a  very  perfect  cast  of  the  Venus  de 
Milo  being  the  only  adornments.  The  great  oak 
table  in  the  centre  of  the  room  was  filled  with  new 
books,  reviews,  and  periodicals,  and  a  set  of  exqui 
sitely  carved  chessmen  was  set  out  as  if  some  problem 
were  under  study.  He  recalled  now  that  her  husband 
had  been  interested  in  one  of  the  Boston  daily  papers, 
and,  till  his  health  failed,  for  some  years  its  editor-in- 
chief,  and  he  remembered  that  since  her  widowhood 
they  had  been  told  most  of  her  income  came  from 
general  literary  work,  always  unsigned. 

The  bell  rang  before  his  kinswoman  appeared,  and 
as  he  stood  there  examining  the  carving  of  the  white 
queen,  quick  steps  ran  up  the  stairs,  and  Morris 


BALLANTYNE  197 

entered  the  room  with  a  breezy  rush,  as  if  on  most 
familiar  ground,  pausing  in  profound  amazement  as 
he  saw  Ballantyne. 

u  Well,  John,  and  is  it  you  really  ?  "  a  voice  said, 
and  he  turned  to  see  the  stately  figure  and  noble  head 
of  a  woman  well  beyond  middle  life,  who  looked  from 
one  to  the  other  in  momentary  surprise,  going  for 
ward  then  with  both  hands  extended,  and  with  a 
peculiarly  sweet,  bright  smile. 

u  John  Ballantyne  the  card  had  prepared  me  for," 
she  said,  "  but  Pendleton  Morris  is  hardly  a  less  sur 
prising  apparition.  You  do  not  come  together,  do 
you?" 

She  shook  hands  as  she  turned  to  the  latter,  who 
burst  into  profuse  explanation. 

"  Boston  via  Liverpool  is  sometimes  easier  to  one 
than  via  New  York,"  he  said.  "  Threads  tangle, 
and  hold  fast,  wherever  one  elects  to  settle,  and  my 
web  is  spun  closest  on  Hudson  Heights.  But  I  am 
curious  enough  to  wonder  what  brings  you  to  this  old 
friend  of  mine,"  he  added,  turning  to  Ballantyne  with 
his  frankest  smile. 

"  Kinship,"  Mrs.  LeBaron  said,  quietly.  "  We 
are  cousins  once  removed." 

Morris's  uneasy  eyes  darted  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  You  are  absolutely  unlike,"  he  said  indifferently, 
and  fell  at  once  into  question  as  to  the  doing  of 
Boston  in  the  year  since  he  had  seen  it. 

"  I  had  just  this  half-hour,"  he  said  at  last.  "  The 
cab  is  below  that  brought  me  here,  and  we  take  the 


198  BALLANTYNE 

steamboat  train  for  Fall  River.  I  have  come  back 
with  my  prize." 

"  Young  Percival,  I  suppose  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Then  you  have  not  forgotten,"  he  cried.  u  I 
remember  I  showed  you  his  portrait.  He  is  in  the 
cab,  but  was  rather  shaky  and  uncertain  as  to  foot 
ing,  and  I  left  him  there.  You  know  we  all  step 
high  for  a  day  or  so  after  shipboard.  May  I  bring 
him  up  for  a  moment  ?  " 

He  was  gone  as  he  spoke,  and  back  again,  pre 
senting  Percival  with  an  effiusiveness  at  which  the 
young  man  colored  like  a  girl.  Mrs.  LeBaron  met 
him  with  quiet,  friendly  ease,  but  Ballantyne,  who 
was  watching  them  all  with  a  curious  eagerness,  as  if 
it  were  an  intermediate  scene  in  a  play,  to  lead  up  to 
something  impossible  to  guess,  saw  that  her  eyes 
rested  on  him  with  pity  as  well  as  interest,  and  that 
Morris  noted  it,  and  looked  resentfully  at  her. 

u  The  Philistine  still  battles  with  the  child  of 
light,"  he  said,  half  aside.  "  You  cleave  to  Boston 
so  closely,  my  friend,  that  you  will  never  give  me 
opportunity  to  show  you  the  likable  side  of  her  rival." 

"  I  know  no  rival,"  she  answered,  lightly.  "  We 
are  of  one  order,  and  your  chosen  place  of  another. 
Rivalry  does  not  rise  between  absolutely  alien  ele 
ments." 

"  I  would  defeat  your  position  if  we  had  two  more 
minutes,"  Morris  said,  gayly.  "  Come,  Tom,  we 
have  barely  time." 

u  If  you    were  nearer,  I  should  say,  come  to  me 


BALLANTYNE 


199 


when  you  want  to  talk  over  your  impressions,"  Mrs. 
LeBaron  said,  as  she  looked  earnestly  at  young  Perci- 
val,  who,  in  turn,  had  met  her  eyes,  as  if  he  wished 
that  better  knowledge  were  possible.  Then,  in  the 
deluge  of  words,  he  was  hurried  away,  and  Mrs. 
LeBaron,  who  looked  after  them  with  a  clouded 
face,  turned  cordially  to  Ballantyne. 

u  I  was  thinking  of  you  to-day,"  she  said.  "  Now 
and  then  sudden  temptations  come  to  try  this  wide 
sea,  and  what  may  wait  on  the  other  side,  but  I  do 
not  need  to  now  that  you  have  come  to  me.  How 
is  it  that  you  are  alone  ?  I  thought  that  when  you 
did  come,  your  mother  would  be  with  you.  Is  it 
so?  "  she  added  gently,  as  a  look  in  Ballantyne's  face 
answered  her. 

"  I  am  bringing  her  with  me,"  he  said.  "  I  am 
on  my  way  now  to  Nantucket." 

"  Not  at  once  ?  " 

"  To-morrow,  unless  some  reason  for  delay  arises." 

"  You  will  stay  here  with  me  to-night,  will  you 
not  ?  "  she  asked,  after  a  little  silence  in  which  she 
looked  at  him  with  friendly  eyes,  "  unless,  indeed, 
you  may  prefer  the  hotel,  which  I  hope  you  will 
not." 

"  Here,  by  all  means,  if  I  may,"  Ballantyne 
answered,  with  a  sense  of  rest  and  comfort  long 
unknown. 

Reserved  and  calm  as  she  seemed  in  manner,  her 
eyes  held  deep  sympathy,  and  in  her  voice,  rich  and 
full  in  tone,  was  also  a  gentle,  benignant  quality, 


200  BALLANTYNE 

that  moved  him  like  music.  It  was  impossible  to 
think  of  her  as  a  stranger,  and  she,  in  turn,  looked 
at  him  with  an  interest  seldom  so  deeply  roused. 

"  Simon  can  be  sent  over  for  whatever  you  re 
quire,"  she  said  j  and  Ballantyne  wrote  the  necessary 
order,  and  gave  it  to  the  discreet  and  grizzled  Afri 
can  who  had  answered  the  bell. 

"  You  will  have  to  be  contented  with  a  mere  box 
of  a  room  for  the  night,"  she  said, "  which,  of  course, 
I  ought  to  have  told  you  beforehand.  Now  you  have 
no  choice.  You  know  that,  as  one  of  my  various 
means  of  living,  I  have  with  me  three  of  the  young 
fellows  my  husband  trained.  They  are  all  on  the 
paper,  and  the  sister  of  one  of  them  also  ;  but  they  are 
a  little  erratic  in  the  matter  of  time,  as  newspaper 
folk  must  be,  though  tolerably  certain  to  be  here 
punctually  at  dinner.  This  is  the  old  house,  and  to 
keep  it  at  all,  that  seemed  to  be  the  most  practical 
method.  Simon  and  his  wife  leave  me  very  little 
real  responsibility." 

"Then  it  is  possible  I  shall  see  some  genuine 
Americans,"  he  said.  "  I  had  begun  to  believe  the 
race  was  dying  out." 

"  Not  in  this  house,  thank  God  !  No,  nor  in  many 
another  you  shall  know,"  said  Mrs.  LeBaron,  with 
fervor.  "I  protest  perpetually  against  the  present 
craze  for  everything  English.  Why  can  we  not  take 
your  best  and  ignore  the  rest  ?  I  want  all  that  litera 
ture  and  art  can  give,  but  your  Philistinism  seems  to 
me  a  more  offensive  type  even  than  ours." 


BALLANTYNE  201 

"  I  object  to  your  pronouns,"  Ballantyne  said,  with 
a  smile ;  u  I  have  come  home  and  refused  to  be 
classed  under  the  head  c  British '  or  '  Philistine/  Do 
you  disown  me  ?  " 

"  Hardly.  A  recruit  on  my  side  who  at  the  same 
time  may  serve  as  model  of  the  '  howling  swell  ' 
some  of  my  young  people  adore,  is  something 
unexampled." 

« What  am  I  to  do  ?  What  do  I  do  ? "  said 
Ballantyne,  laughing,  but  with  some  irritation. 
"  How  am  I  different  ?  Tell  me,  that  I  may 
change  it." 

u  You  cannot.  You  have  come  up  in  an 
atmosphere  of  leisure.  Do  you  ever  hurry  ?  Can 
you  conceive  yourself  eating  a  lunch  in  five  minutes, 
or  rushing  to  catch  a  car  and  save  a  minute  and  a 
half?  You  sit  still,  whereas  the  American  cannot. 
There  is  repose  about  you.  No,  you  have  simply 
returned  to  the  original  type,  for,  after  all,  we  are 
English  too,  of  purer  blood,  if  Freeman  tells  the 
truth,  than  most  of  those  who  stayed  behind." 

"  But  this  does  not  tell  me  how  to  change." 

"  No,  nor  will  it.  I  want  no  change.  It  is  the 
spirit  that  is  the  real  thing,  and  we  can  let  dif 
ferences  drop.  Do  you  hear  that  rush  ?  Thank 
Heaven,  there  is  one  young  fellow  left  who  whistles 
without  any  conviction  of  glaring  impropriety  — 
whistles  like  a  lark." 

"  Evidently  you  are  a  sort  of  elegant  Bohemian," 
Ballantyne  said,  as  she  looked  expectantly  toward  the 


202  BALLANTYNE 

door.  A  curly  black  head  was  thrust  in  for  a  mo 
ment,  and  dancing  black  eyes  carried  the  tune  the 
lips  had  dropped. 

"  Pardon,"  he  said,  "  I  can't  help  it  when  I  see 
the  old  house.  It 's  heaven  after  that  pandemonium 
over  there  on  Washington  Street.  Jack  and  I  are 
here,  and  Julian  is  on  the  way  with  Margaret.  You 
will  have  us  all  to-night." 

He  turned  without  having  seen  Ballantyne,  who 
sat  in  the  shadow,  and  in  a  moment  other  voices 
sounded  in  the  hall. 

"  This  is  the  bright  hour  of  the  day,"  Mrs.  Le- 
Baron  said.  "  I  could  hardly  live  my  life  without 
these  young  people.  You  will  not  mind,  John  ? 
We  shall  have  the  evening  to  ourselves." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  said, "  I  shall  enjoy  it  all;  " 
and  then  as  she  left  him  sat  resting  till  roused  by  the 
sound  of  an  instrument  of  some  sort  the  one  clear, 
high  note  of  which  seemed  to  melt  in  a  thousand  sil 
very  shades,  and  die  away  so  slowly  that  the  waves 
still  vibrated  as  he  rose  to  seek  their  source. 

"  It  is  as  ravishing  as  the  verger's  '  howl '  in  the 
Baptistery  at  Pisa,"  he  said,  meeting  Mrs.  LeBaron  at 
the  door ;  cc  Americans  bring  home  everything,  they 
say.  Have  you  a  bit  of  the  echo  ?  " 

"Something  better,  since  it  does  not  depend  on 
the  life  of  that  particular  verger.  It  is  the  gift  of 
a  Burmese  missionary ;  a  gong  used  at  the  sacred 
shrines,  though  to  call  it  gong  is  opprobrious.  See ; 
it  is  a  crescent  of  many  metals,  silver  the  chief,  but 


BALLANTYNE  203 

all  blended  in  curious  layers,  the  secret  of  the  priests. 
The  sound  whispers  on,  long  after  you  think  it  ended." 

She  had  brought  the  crescent,  and  as  Ballantyne 
looked  at  it  with  curiosity,  the  group  entered,  and, 
when  introductions  were  over,  went  down  to  the 
dining-room. 

A  slight  constraint  ruled  for  a  little,  but  as  Mrs. 
LeBaron  chatted  on  it  soon  melted  away,  and  eager 
talk  began.  Margaret  Howard,  who  sat  next  him, 
was  simply  a  blond  copy  of  her  dark  and  vivacious 
brother  Ralph,  and  chatted  and  laughed  to  the  silent 
but  appreciative  content  of  her  neighbor  Brownson,  a 
pale  and  critical-looking  young  fellow  with  the  ex 
pression  which  Ballantyne  later  came  to  know  tech 
nically  as  "  the  Harvard  look." 

His  companion,  Ashton,  was  neutral,  whity-brown 
seeming  to  be  the  tint  of  eyes,  hair,  clothes,  and  com 
plexion  ;  but  now  and  then  a  keenly  penetrating  look 
fell  upon  one  or  another  speaker  :  and  Ballantyne, 
who  found  it  at  intervals  meeting  his  own,  settled  that 
the  balance  of  power  for  the  four  was  really  here. 

They  lingered  over  the  coffee  till  eight  chimed 
from  some  bell  tower  not  far  away,  separating  then 
for  the  evening  engagements,  and  Ballantyne  followed 
Mrs.  LeBaron  into  the  study,  and  fell  at  once  into 
the  story  her  questions  prompted.  They  talked  long, 
but  not  till  they  had  separated  for  the  night  did  it 
occur  to  him  that  in  all  their  discussion  of  old  plans 
no  word  had  been  said  of  Morris  and  the  u  Brother 
hood  of  the  New  Day."  He  would  ask  her  in  the 


204  BALLANTYNE 

morning  what  she  really  knew  of  him,  and  what  his 
motives  and  standing  were ;  and  if  he  had  misinter 
preted  him,  learn  to  do  him  justice ;  and  he  fell 
asleep  with  a  vision  of  young  Percival's  face,  which 
melted  into  Marion's,  losing  itself  in  the  mocking, 
restless  eyes  of  Morris. 


Chapter    'Third 


BALLANTYNE   slept  heavily,  and    found 
to  his  surprise,  on  descending  next  morn 
ing,  that  his  hostess  had  gone  in  an  early 
train  to    Plymouth,  called  there  by   the 
sudden  illness  of  a  sister.      He  had  barely   time  to 
catch  his  own  train,  but  Simons  had  ordered  a  cab,  and 
gave  him  a  note  from  his  cousin,  in  which  she  begged 
him  to  keep  her  aware  of  his  movements,  and  come 
to  her  on  his  return  to  Boston. 

For  the  first  hour,  Ballantyne  studied  the  country, 
then  gave  himself  to  the  work  of  drawing  some  fel 
low-passenger  into  conversation,  a  proceeding  received 
with  that  mixture  of  suspicion  and  reserve  which 
is  often  the  characteristic  of  the  travelling  Ameri 
can  at  home.  In  England,  he  reflected,  with  puzzled 
pondering  over  differences,  strangers  fell  into  easy 
and  ready  talk  ;  while  here,  on  his  own  ground,  he 
was  eyed  with  profound  question  as  to  his  motives  in 
speaking  at  all. 

In  course  of  time,  an  elderly  man  in  a  white  cravat 
asked  him  as  to  the 'State  of  religion  in  his  district, 
deciding  that  only  interest  in  men's  souls  could  war 
rant  his  attempts ;  and  while  a  youth  in  the  rear 


206  BALLANTYNE 

chuckled  at  Ballantyne's  surprise,  a  neighbor  changed 
places  and  made  a  prolonged  examination  of  all  three. 
The  result  was  favorable  to  Ballantyne,  with  whom 
he  soon  fell  into  confidential  talk  as  to  the  mortgage 
on  his  son-in-law's  farm,  and  the  general  condition 
of  real  estate  on  the  Cape  ;  nor  did  it  end  till  the 
dock  was  reached  and  he  had  seen  this  most  unusually 
interested  listener  go  on  board  the  Nantucket  boat. 

September  twilight  was  settling  down  as  Ballan 
tyne  stepped  ashore,  to  be  at  once  captured  by  the 
only  representative  of  the  only  hotel  open.  With 
the  first  keen  winds  the  summer  boarder  had  van 
ished,  and  the  island  was  its  natural  self  till  June 
came  again.  He  wandered  about  the  old  town  in 
the  moonlight,  puzzled  like  all  strangers  as  to  why 
the  houses  turned  their  backs  upon  the  sea,  and  try 
ing  to  remember  which  had  been  his  grandfather's. 
But  the  great  kitchen  and  black  Amy  frying  dough 
nuts  were  his  only  vivid  impressions  of  this,  for  he 
had  been  on .  the  island  but  once  in  his  childhood, 
and  that  just  before  they  sailed  on  that  last  and  most 
disastrous  voyage. 

With  morning  and  clear  sunshine  he  made  his  way 
to  the  gravedigger's,  the  house  having  been  pointed 
out  to  him  at  the  hotel,  whose  proprietor  watched 
him  till  out  of  sight  with  much  wonder  as  to  his 
errand.  He  found  a  silent  and  inscrutable-looking 
old  man,  who  eyed  him  suspiciously  as  if  he  were 
a  probable  pirate  seeking  aid  to  bury  stolen  treasure, 
but  who  thawed  into  sudden  facility  of  speech  as  he 
heard  his  name. 


BALLANTYNE  207 

"  I  want  to  know  !  You  don't  say  !  Pretty  Laury 
Prince  come  home  ag'in  to  be  buried.  Well,  well. 
You  must  come  in  an'  talk  it  over  with  Azuby ; 
that 's  my  wife.  She  set  great  store  by  Laury. 
You  won't  come  in  ?  Well,  I  '11  go  on,  then." 

Azuba's  rheumatism  and  the  decay  of  the  town 
filled  the  way  till  the  graveyard  was  reached  and  he 
had  measured  off  the  space,  and  made  a  few  strokes 
at  a  stone  too  large  for  his  spade  to  manage. 

"This  here  bowlder,"  he  said,  as  he  leaned  back 
against  the  rough  granite ;  "  do  you  know  now,  this 
bowlder  took  every  hoss  in  town  to  get  it  up  ? 
Might  'a'  been  one  o'  the  Pyramids  for  the  fuss  it 
was ;  an*  now  it 's  here,  't  ain't  nothin'  but  a  bowlder, 
with  '  John  Ballantyne  '  cut  big,  an'  *  Philip  Ballan- 
tyne,  his  son,'  cut  little.  There  's  room  for  more  of 
ye.  Take  that  bowlder  now  as  it  stands,  an*  three 
generations  of  Ballantynes  might  be  on  it  besides 
the  two  that  is,  but  ain't  under  it.  I  hain't  never 
heerd  exactly  whether  you  got  the  corpse  or  not. 
If  you  did,  you  'd  ought  have  brought  him  along, 
too,  as  well 's  your  ma.  Folks  seemed  to  think 
»t  was  n't  jest  the  thing  for  him  to  be  in  one  place 
an'  the  stun  in  another ;  but  there !  I  suppose  may 
be  over  there  't  ain't  looked  at  the  same  way.  Now, 
me,  I  couldn't  rest  easy  off  Nantuck.  You  don't 
feel  that  way  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  lived  here  all  my  life,  you  know,"  Bal 
lantyne  answered. 

"  Well,  there  ain't  a  place  to  beat  it,"  the  old  man 


208  BALLANTYNE 

went  on,  with  a  final  blow  that  sent  the  troublesome 
stone  rolling  down  the  hill.  "  I  know,  for  I  've 
sailed  all  seas,  and  seen  all  colors  of  skin.  Be  you 
goin'  to  have  anythin'  said  when  it  comes  time  to 
fill  up  ?  There 's  a  woman  minister  that  some  of 
'em  fancies,  but  for  the  most  part  I  'd  ruther  hev 
Quakers  an'  no  fuss  onless  the  Sperrit  moves  'em,  an' 
mostly  it  ain't  very  apt  to.  You  can't  be  no  ways 
certain  what  way  the  Sperrit  will  take." 

The  old  man  rambled  on  as  he  dug,  till  his  head 
was  lost  to  view,  emerging  at  intervals  to  make  some 
statement  demanding  special  attention,  and  at  last 
pointed  back  to  his  own  house. 

"  You  're  kind  o'  beat  out,  seems  to  me,"  he  said. 
"Why  don't  you  go  down  there  a  spell  an'  rest? 
Tell  Azuby  who  you  be,  an'  you  can  talk  things 
over.  Never  seems  fair  for  her  not  to  know  things 
soon  as  me." 

Ballantyne  shook  his  head. 

"  You  need  n't  be  afraid  there  ain't  time  before 
the  coffin  can  git  here.  Hiram  's  a  master  hand  to 
poke,  an'  his  father 's  another.  Hiram  '11  hev  to 
drag  him  out  o'  the  cap'n's  room  anyhow.  They  're 
a  shifless  lot  in  there,  if  I  do  say  it,  loafin'  all  day  an' 
tellin'  stories,  an'  more  lies  wove  in  each  time  they 
tell  'em.  Why,  Cap'n  Hiram  says  to  me  only  yis- 
terday,  l  Cummings,'  he  says  —  " 

The  rest  was  lost  as  Cummings  gave  himself  once 
more  to  his  work,  though  a  sound  of  muffled  narra 
tive  still  rose  from  below,  and  Ballantyne  watched  the 


BALLANTYNE  209 

slow  progress  of  the  horses  through  the  sandy  way  and 
up  the  slight  ascent  to  the  graveyard.  He  shared  his 
mother's  deep  dislike  of  funeral  ceremonies,  but  in 
spite  of  this  felt  reproached  as  Captain  Hiram  pres 
ently  drew  near  and  looked  at  him  from  under  his 
bushy  eyebrows. 

"  They  've  told  me  who  you  be,"  he  said.  "  I 
knowed  your  father  and  your  grandfather  before  him, 
an'  you  favor  them  both,  but  I  did  n't  ever  expect 
I  'd  live  to  help  lay  your  mother  away,  an'  not  one  of 
her  own  townsfolk  to  do  her  honor.  'T  ain't  the  right 
kind  of  a  way,  seems  to  me." 

u  She  wished  it  so,"  Ballantyne  said,  gently ;  and 
Captain  Hiram,  after  another  look,  nodded  under- 
standingly. 

u  What  a  woman  wants  she  wants,"  he  said,  "  an' 
dead  or  alive  don't  make  much  odds.  You  can't  go 
ag'in  the  dead,  whatever  you  do  to  the  livin'.  It 
always  seemed  to  me  it  had  ought  to  be  the  other 
way,  for  the  livin'  mind  an'  the  dead  don't,  though 
't  ain't  always  so,  for  I  could  tell  you  a  story — " 

"  Father  !  for  the  land's  sake  !  "  interrupted  young 
Hiram.  "  This  ain't  a  wake  for  you  to  yarn  it 
twenty-four  hours  on  a  stretch.  It 's  a  funeral. 
Won't  you  be  quiet  till  we  get  the  remains  in  ?  " 

Captain  Hiram  looked  defiantly  at  his  son,  his 
grizzled  brows  working  fiercely,  but  fell  into  silence ; 
and  again  Ballantyne  wished,  as  he  had  often  done, 
that  death  might  be  simply  a  vanishing,  a  melting 
away,  with  no  miserable  detail  of  outward  observ- 

14 


210  BALLANTYNE 

ance,  or  alien  hands  to  mar  the  thought  of  the  larger 
life  attained.  He  had  turned  away  to  pace  up  and 
down  among  the  graves,  and  now,  as  the  last  shovel 
ful  was  thrown  out,  lent  a  hand  as  the  three  men 
lowered  the  coffin  to  its  bed  and  strewed  the  sprigs 
of  cedar  he  had  gathered  from  one  of  the  wind-tossed 
trees.  It  was  over  at  last.  Weary  body  and  troubled 
spirit  were  alike  at  rest,  and  he  was  free  for  such  life 
as  might  come.  Must  it  still  hold  only  renunciation, 
or  would  it  shape  itself  according  to  his  will  ? 

Captain  Hiram  had  bared  his  grizzled  head,  and 
muttered  some  words  ending  clearly,  "  in  the  hope 
of  a  sure  and  certain  resurrection." 

"  You  don't  mind,"  he  said,  apologetically.  "  I  've 
had  to  say  'em  over  many  a  poor  fellow  with  weights 
at  his  heels  and  head.  She  won't  lie  the  harder  for 
'em.  You  was  a  good  son,  I '  know  by  the  look  of 
ye,  an'  it  comes  to  each  of  us  turn  about  to  bury,  an' 
then  be  buried.  Now  I  want  you  to  come  home 
with  me  an'  take  a  bite.  My  wife  knew  her  an* 
your  father  best  of  all,  an'  she  '11  want  a  talk.  You 
don't  mind,  do  ye  ?  " 

Ballantyne  had  drawn  a  deep  breath,  in  which  a 
burden  seemed  to  roll  away.  For  the  moment  he 
felt  guilty,  as  if  unfaithful  to  a  lifelong  trust. 

"  At  least  now  she  understands,  and  can  pardon," 
he  thought,  and  turned  to  the  old  captain,  who 
waited  expectant  and  uncertain. 

"  No,  indeed,  I  shall  be  very  glad  to  go,"  he  said, 
and  went  his  way  with  him. 


BALLANTYNE 


This  was  Ballantyne's  real  introduction  to  Nan- 
tucket.  Captain  Hiram  led  him  from  house  to 
house,  introduced  him  to  the  sacred  precincts  of  the 
"  captain's  room,"  and  he  found  at  all  points,  not 
only  welcome,  but  the  full  flavor  of  a  life  unique 
even  yet,  and  with  every  sharp  characteristic  still 
untouched  by  the  modern  march.  The  old  houses, 
hermetically  sealed  to  the  casual  visitor,  opened  their 
widest  to  this  son  of  names  still  honored.  Not 
Guernsey  or  Sark  itself  had  sharper  individuality; 
and  Ballantyne  settled  into  contented  acceptance  of 
all  that  came,  delighting  and  amazing  them  by  his 
familiarity  with  local  traditions  and  history  and  his 
love  of  all  that  the  old  island  represented. 

So  a  fortnight  passed,  and  then  he  chanced  one 
afternoon  upon  a  son  of  the  island  back  for  a  passing 
look  at  the  old  homestead,  and  off  again  in  a  day  or 
two  on  his  duty  as  factory  inspector. 

u  If  you  want  to  see  what  New  England  has  really 
come  to,"  he  said,  after  a  shrewd  look  from  his  gray 
eyes  had  been  followed  by  a  few  leading  questions 
and  an  evident  summing  up  of  conclusions,  "  you  'd 
better  come  with  me.  You  '11  find  New  Ireland 
uppermost,  and  a  considerable  touch  of  New  France 
in  the  shape  of  French  Canadians.  Able-bodied  New 
England  has  dumped  itself  into  the  West,  and  if  the 
labor  men  tell  the  truth,  some  of  them  wouldn't 
mind  trying  home  soil  again." 

"  I  have  heard  that  more  than  once,"  Ballantyne 
replied. 


212  BALLANTYNE 

"  Then  you  heard  the  truth.  They  'd  be  back 
here  too,  I  believe,  if  interest  on  mortgages  did  n't 
swallow  up  profits  so,  they  've  nothing  left  to  come 
home  with.  Hear  the  bonanza  farm  men  talk  and 
you  'd  think  there  was  n't  a  poor  man  possible,  West 
or  East.  You  '11  see  plenty  of  them  as  you  go.  If 
you  want  the  inside  of  things,  you  must  look  up  the 
Labor  Bureau  men.  They  've  got  heads  most  of 
them,  and  are  not  afraid  to  use  them.  Size  up 
Massachusetts  and  you  've  got  the  run  of  New 
England,  though  we  're  a  little  ahead  on  factory 
legislation.  But  it  takes  a  sharper  lookout  than  you 
might  think  to  get  ahead  of  the  dodges.  What  do 
you  say  ?  " 

"  That  is  just  such  a  chance  as  I  want,"  Ballantyne 
replied,  heartily. 

"  You  '11  have  to  rough  it  considerable.  I  suppose 
you  're  ready  for  that  ?  They  '11  take  you  for  an 
other  of  those  prying  Englishmen  you  run  into, 
poking  round  everywhere  to  see  what  we  Yankees 
are  at,  and  how  we  're  at  it." 

Ballantyne  could  have  wished  for  a  trifle  more 
silent  travelling  companion,  but  there  was  no  other 
objection.  Buckley's  comments  were  a  mingling  of 
shrewdness  and  worldly  wisdom,  with  great  good- 
heartedness.  He  had  moments  of  strong  indignation 
for  any  glaring  injustice  on  either  side,  and,  in  the 
weeks  of  travel  that  followed,  and  the  daily  talks  with 
operatives  of  every  grade  as  well  as  with  manufac 
turers  themselves,  Ballantyne  gained  much  curious 


BALLANTYNE  213 

knowledge  of  factory  and  farm  life  and  the  irrecon 
cilable  conflict  between  them. 

To  the  owners  it  was  always  certain  that  he  repre 
sented  English  capital  seeking  investment,  a  supposed 
desire,  met  sometimes  jealously,  but  as  often  cordially. 
The  perennial  astonishment,  as  he  avowed  his  nation 
ality,  had  ceased  to  torment  him  as  in  the  beginning, 
and  he  began  to  feel  that  he  understood  Massachu 
setts,  a  trifle  daunted  as  he  reflected  on  the  number 
of  stars  in  the  United  States  flag,  and  the  necessi 
ties  involved  if  each  one  were  dealt  with  in  like 
fashion. 

At  intervals  he  had  written  to  Mrs.  LeBaron,  who 
had  begged  him  to  come  to  her  for  Thanksgiving, 
compromising  at  last  on  Plymouth  and  the  old  house 
which  still  kept  its  colonial  state,  though  occupied 
only  by  the  two  maiden  sisters,  who  represented  all 
that  was  left  of  the  family  once  overflowing  every 
room  in  the  homestead. 

To  be  quite  sure  that  as  much  of  the  ancient 
character  of  the  day  was  given  as  might  be,  Mrs. 
LeBaron  went  down  with  Simon  a  day  or  two  before 
hand,  and  her  young  people  followed  her  at  the 
appointed  time.  Here  Ballantyne  renewed  acquaint 
ance  ;  ate  his  first  pumpkin  pie,  dubiously  at  first  but 
with  final  acceptance,  and  studied  the  house,  from 
oak-beamed  parlor  to  attic  rafter. 

Ashton  had  met  him  with  unexpected  cordiality, 
and  as,  after  dinner,  they  took  the  prescribed  walk  to 
Plymouth  Rock,  told  him  that  the  paper  had  decided 


2i4  BALLANTYNE 

to  send  him  to  St.  Louis  and  one  or  two  other  West 
ern  points  for  a  look  at  the  labor  difficulties,  and  that 
this  might  be  an  opportunity,  if  he  inclined,  for 
another  phase  of  his  investigation. 

"  Kansas  mortgages  are  part  of  it  also,"  he  said, 
"  and  you  will  find  St.  Louis  a  desirable  addition  to 
your  labelled  specimens,  a  much  more  distinctive  one 
than  Omaha." 

u  My  fancy  of  both  is  Indian  trading-posts,"  Bal- 
lantyne  answered,  with  a  laugh,  "but  I  happen  to 
know  better.  I  have  had  a  philosophical  quarterly 
from  St.  Louis,  and  I  know  the  earliest  and  best  work 
in  manual  training,  so  far  as  we  are  concerned,  was 
begun  there." 

"That  is  the  German  element,"  Ashton  replied, 
promptly.  "  Yankees  have  had  very  little  time  thus 
far  for  metaphysics,  since  the  days  of  the  theological 
rows  here  in  New  England ;  but  German  thought 
there  is  strong  and  seems  to  have  drawn  in  and  in 
corporated  all  the  studious  element.  You  will  find 
it  rich  pasturage.  I  may  have  to  take  a  run  down  to 
New  Orleans.  Shall  you  like  that  also  ?  " 

"  In  every  way,"  Ballantyne  answered  heartily, 
putting  out  his  hand  to  Ashton,  who  grasped  it  with 
a  sudden  flush  of  pleasure. 

"  We  newspaper  men,"  he  said,  "  skitter  over  the 
surface  of  things  like  water  flies,  but  we  come  to 
know  how  to  go  deeper  at  times.  The  deep  water 
I  shall  leave  to  you,  and  I  am  not  quite  disinterested, 
for  your  eyes,  I  fancy,  will  see  some  things  to  which 


BALLANTYNE  215 

mine  are  custom-sealed.  You  will  be  invaluable,  for 
we  live  always  to  find  a  new  point  of  view." 

u  When  it  is  all  over,  remember  that  Boston  has 
not  yet  been  put  in  your  scales,"  said  Mrs.  LeBaron, 
when  she  had  listened,  well  pleased,  to  the  new  plan. 
"  Really  you  should  have  taken  it  first,  though,  after 
all,  Nantucket  was  an  excellent  beginning.  Now 
tell  me  the  end  of  it  all.  When  you  have  weighed 
and  measured  and  sifted,  where  is  the  cake  to  be 
baked  and  eaten  ?  In  Boston,  I  hope,  and  some 
where  near  me." 

They  had  lingered  over  the  fire  in  the  great  Frank 
lin  stove,  with  its  monumental  urn  and  polished 
brasses,  the  young  men  having  gone  up  in  the  even 
ing  train  with  Margaret,  who  also  could  not  take  full 
holiday ;  and  the  ancient  sisters,  accustomed  to  the 
earliest  of  hours,  had  yielded  easily  to  their  cousin's 
suggestion,  and,  with  many  cautions  as  to  fire,  trotted 
away  to  bed.  Ballantyne  had  stretched  himself  in  a 
deep  lounging-chair,  his  hands  clasped  above  his  head, 
and  the  firelight  playing  on  his  serious  face  and  deep 
eyes. 

"  Who  knows  ?  "  he  said,  half  abstractedly,  turning 
slightly  more  toward  her,  and  noting,  again  the  under 
lying  sadness  of  eyes,  and  the  lines  of  pain  about  the 
mouth.  Hers  had  been  an  ideal  marriage,  his  mother 
had  said.  There  had  been  no  children,  and  the  closest 
of  unions  had  been  closer  every  year.  Yet  bravest 
patience  marked  her  life,  he  knew,  and  spoke  loudest 
in  all  she  left  unsaid ;  and  he  looked  at  her  with  fresh 


2i6  BALLANTYNE 

admiration,  and  the  sympathy  that  could  not  yet  be 
spoken. 

"  If  I  am  not  too  curious,"  she  said,  after  a  little 
silence,  in  which  she  had  watched  his  falling  back 
into  thought,  "  tell  me  what  is  to  determine  it." 

"  There  is  always  the  one  answer  to  a  crucial 
question,  I  suppose,"  he  answered  slowly,  after  a 
moment  in  which  he  had  hesitated,  —  "a  woman's 
word." 

u  Then  it  will  take  you  home  again,"  she  said,  re 
gretfully.  "  Why  could  you  not  have  waited  to  try 
what  charm  might  lie  in  our  American  girls  ?  " 

Again  he  hesitated,  but  the  instinct  toward  con 
fidence  was  strong.  At  least  she  knew  what  love 
meant,  and  had  proved  it.  She  might  even  help. 

"  If  you  will  not  mind  a  long  story,"  he  said,  and 
now  he  sat  upright  and  faced  her,  "  I  think  I  would 
like  to  tell  you  the  whole." 

"  You  are  very  good.  Nothing  could  make  me 
happier  than  such  willingness,"  she  said  quietly,  and 
he  told  her  ;  at  first  with  stumbling  and  difficulty,  so 
long  had  silence  been  the  law  for  all  personal  experi 
ence  ;  at  last  with  deepest  relief,  as  her  intent  listen 
ing  drew  him  on. 

u  It  is  strange  that  I  have  not  thought  of  it  before, 
but  you  must  know  her,"  he  said.  "  You  Cape  and 
Nantucket  people  seem  bound  so  closely  together. 
Her  father  was  Gardiner  Lacy." 

"  Is  it  possible  !  "  said  Mrs.  LeBaron,  in  deep  sur 
prise.  "  I  know  her,  yes,  but  only  of  late  years,  for 


BALLANTYNE  217 

her  father  was  almost  a  hermit.  I  knew,  too,  of  her 
turning  her  back  upon  all  interests  here,  to  the  con 
sternation  of  her  aunt.  By  the  way,  you  crossed 
with  her ;  the  Barstow  party,  you  know.  That  is 
the  Aunt  Theodosia  with  whom  she  lived  after  her 
father's  death." 

"  Then  that  is  the  look  for  which  I  could  not  ac 
count  on  the  oldest  daughter's  face,"  Ballantyne  said, 
surprised,  and  fell  into  silence  from  which  he  pres 
ently  roused. 

"I  am  beginning  to  understand  better  how  her 
mind  may  have  worked,"  he  said  ;  "  but  I  shall  not 
know  certainly,  till  more  is  done." 

"  Shall  you  tell  her  so  ?  " 

u  Not  yet.  I  am  pledged  to  say  nothing  more  till 
the  year  ends.  I  shall  not  even  write  her,  though  to 
promise  this  would  have  been  impossible  if  I  had  not 
known  that  my  old  friend,  and  her  new  one,  Miss 
Ryde,  would  keep  me  aware  of  her  life,  for  they  are 
much  together.  How  will  it  be  ?  You  who  know 
life  so  well,  tell  me  what  you  think.  Will  she  be 
obstinate  ?  " 

"  It  is  obstinate  blood,"  Mrs.  LeBaron  said,  "  and 
she  has  a  theory  which,  in  Nantucket  hands,  carries 
strange  compulsion.  But  if  she  loves  you,  and  you 
tell  me  she  admits  it,  time  may  do  what  you  cannot. 
Let  her  quite  alone,  dear  boy." 

The  words  came  involuntarily  as  she  met  his  wist 
ful  look. 

u  There  is  but  one  message  for  you  and  for  me," 


ai8  BALLANTYNE 

she  said  after  a  moment,  u  and  that  is  the  word  that 
holds  the  sternest  command  human  hearts  can  hear  or 
seek  in  patience  to  obey,  —  wait." 

She  had  risen  as  she  spoke,  and  her  eyes  as  they 
rested  on  the  young  man's  troubled  face  were  full 
of  sudden  longing.  He  put  out  his  hand,  and  for 
a  moment  she  held  it  close;  then  bent  and  gently 
kissed  his  forehead. 

"  There  was  no  son  for  me,"  she  said,  "  but  your 
father's  child  could  hardly  fail  to  seem  like  one. 
Good  night.  I  am  glad  you  have  told  me.  We 
will  wait  together,  I  for  the  end,  and  you  for  the 
beginning." 


Chapter  Fourth 


MARCH  winds  were  blowing  when  John 
Ballantyne  again  saw  Boston.  The 
Western  journey  had  prolonged  it 
self  and  might  have  gone  on  indefi 
nitely,  for  the  letters  which  Ashton  had  sent  back 
were  of  so  marked  a  character  and  excited  such 
general  interest  and  attention,  that  the  editor-in-chief 
soon  saw  reason  to  count  it  as  one  of  the  most  suc 
cessful  ventures  since  the  early  days  of  the  paper  and 
its  popularity. 

Ashton  alone,  though  his  ability  ranked  high,  might 
not  have  brought  such  result,  but  he  had  rightly  di 
vined  that  with  Ballantyne's  eyes  added,  the  result 
was  likely  to  be  an  unexpected  coup.  Again  and 
again,  as  he  revised  his  own  version  in  the  light  of 
facts  or  theories  his  companion  brought  to  bear,  he 
said  : 

"See  here,  Ballantyne;  this  is  your  work,  not 
mine.  Write  your  own  letter.  I  regard  this  as  a 
piece  of  cheating.  If  you  won't  let  me  own  up 
now,  I  shall  when  I  am  back  again.  You  are  a 
born  correspondent.  Why  don't  you  take  to  it  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am,  at    present,    moonlight    to    your 


220  BALLANTYNE 

sunlight,"  Ballantyne  said,  with  a  laugh,  "does  not 
prove  I  shall  not  by  and  by  go  into  permanent 
eclipse.  Just  now  as  I  see  things,  I  happen  to  fit 
the  scheme  of  your  paper,  but  if  I  veered  a  little, 
where  should  I  be  ?  No ;  I  am  afraid  that  jour 
nalism,  unless  I  own  all  the  stock,  is  not  for  me." 

"I  cannot  understand  you,"  said  Ashton,  throwing 
himself  back  in  his  chair.  They  were  in  a  Kansas 
village,  a  city  on  the  map  which  hung  in  the  bar 
room  of  the  wretched  little  hotel  where  they  had 
been  storm-stayed,  and  where  both  had  taken  the 
opportunity  to  fill  out  their  notes. 

During  the  long  journey  they  had  become  excellent 
friends,  Ashton's  quiet,  judicial  habit  of  mind  being 
balanced  by  a  somewhat  saturnine  humor,  which 
became  lighter  in  quality  as  acquaintance  grew  into 
real  friendliness  and  even  intimacy.  Ashton  was  a 
Cornell  graduate,  and  thus,  as  he  said,  lacked  the 
fine,  pate-de-foie-gras  flavor  which  distinguished  Har 
vard,  but  he  was  a  far  more  thorough  student  than 
either  Howard  or  Bronson,  and  the  keenest  of  ob 
servers.  Mugwump  himself,  his  paper,  though  claim 
ing  catholic  liberality,  was  violently  Republican,  and 
thus  he  had  been  forced  to  omit  or  qualify  some 
phases  of  his  record,  gnashing  his  teeth  at  the  ne 
cessity.  Ballantyne' s  opinion  weighed  with  him  more 
and  more,  and  he  looked  at  him  now  seriously  as  if 
he  would  force  some  explanation  of  his  methods  of 
thought. 

Ballantyne  had  looked  up  as  he  spoke,  and  waited 


BALLANTYNE  221 

for  more.  The  active  life  had  agreed  with  him,  and 
he  seemed  younger  and  far  less  careworn  than  when 
the  rough  journey  began. 

u  If  you  don't  make  a  book,"  Ashton  went  on, 
"  and  if  you  will  and  can  use  them,  I  turn  over 
my  note-books  with  enthusiasm.  What  gain  is 
there  in  the  sort  of  winter  you  have  spent  ?  There 
must  be  an  aim,  for  you  are  the  last  man  to  work 
without  one." 

"Then  you  do  not  find  a  general  understanding 
aim  enough  ? " 

"  Yes,  if  you  mean  to  go  into  politics  or  journalism. 
Otherwise,  what  earthly  difference  does  it  make  to 
you  how  many  small  farmers  are  being  killed  out  by 
the  bonanza  farms,  or  how  many  grinding  brokers 
are  fattening  on  Western  mortgages  ?  It 's  poor 
stuffing  for  such  pillows  as  yours.  This  is  n't  the 
season  to  travel  for  picturesqueness ;  and  if  it  were, 
you  are  at  present  on  the  wrong  ground.  Was  there 
ever  anything  more  infernally  hideous  than  the  wooden 
boxes  that  line  this  wretched  street  ?  No  wonder  the 
Western  men  are  the  despair  of  the  world,  when 
Washington  wants  a  decent  statue  or  picture." 

"  Yet  every  now  and  then  we  have  found  a  good 
building,  or  some  stray  token  of  waking  perception." 

"  Of  course,  else  it  would  not  be  American.  But 
this  is  a  digression.  What  I  want  to  know  is,  why 
foreigners,  like  yourself,  do  not  content  themselves 
with  trying  the  big  cities  one  after  another.  There 
is  where  you  get  the  real  summary  of  the  people." 


222  BALLANTYNE 

"  For  the  business  side  of  things,  yes." 

"  And  for  any  real  living.  The  vegetation  in 
these  villages  does  n't  count.  Conceive  of  a  winter 
in  this  hole  on  a  prairie." 

"  Better  here  than  in  a  slum." 

"I  am  not  sure.  At  least  the  slum  is  nearer 
living,  and  the  dweller  therein  can  emerge  into  some 
thing  positive.  But  cease  any  more  wandering  round 
Robin  Hood's  barn,  and  leave  generalities  for  to 
morrow's  letter.  If  you  do  not  want  public  life,  and 
refuse  the  vent  that  literature  affords,  even  in  its  low 
est  phase  of  journalism,  you  will  simply  get  fat  and 
plethoric  with  miscellaneous  information,  of  no  use 
to  anybody.  That  is  purely  British,  —  to  hug  your 
self  and  your  facts  together,  and  build  a  high  wall 
about  both." 

Ballantyne  laughed.  "  British  "  was  the  term  of 
utmost  opprobrium  Ashton  could  use,  but  it  had 
ceased  to  trouble  him. 

"  When  the  facts  are  all  in,"  he  said,  "  we  will 
plan,  perhaps,  what  I  had  better  do  with  them.  They 
have  their  own  use." 

"  Inscrutable  foreigner,"  Ashton  returned,  "  I  do 
not  doubt  it,  but  my  mission  as  reporter  remains 
unfulfilled  till  I  can  define  what.  I  warn  you  that 
I  am  on  the  lookout ;  "  and  he  turned  to  his  work 
again  with  a  twinkle  as  Ballantyne  made  no  response. 

"A  book,  of  course,"  he  said  to  himself;  "and  it 
will  be  a  stinger.  I  have  never  met  his  match  for 
going  to  the  bottom  of  things.  That  quiet  way  of 


BALLANTYNE 


his  never  seems  to  hinder  his  getting  whatever  he 
wants." 

Ballantyne,  as  he  read  on,  had  stifled  a  sigh.  At 
moments  he  had  utterly  lost  courage,  as  he  faced  the 
conditions  that  confronted  him,  and  found  in  what 
manner  he  must  sum  them  up.  But  he  was  resolutely 
bent  on  persistent  observation  ;  and  though  he  re 
membered  Nantucket  with  longing,  and  thought  often 
of  the  old  house  in  Louisburg  Square,  he  had  no  in 
tention  of  hastening  even  by  a  day  the  task  set  them 
both. 

St.  Louis  had  been  a  break  in  the  general  desola 
tion,  and  had  given  them  its  best.  He  found  there, 
however,  that  the  German  element  would  be  the  one 
to  turn  to  for  genuine  companionship,  their  simple 
living  having  taken  on  little  of  the  reckless,  flam 
boyant  character  that  too  often  distinguished  the  pros 
perous  American. 

"  The  scholar  has,  as  yet,  no  place  on  American 
soil,"  he  recalled  as  the  verdict  of  an  Englishman 
who  looked  with  friendliest  eyes  on  the  life  about 
him,  and  he  had  begun  to  echo  him,  but  with  no 
outward  word  of  agreement.  To  judge  finally  was 
rank  folly  till  more  sheaves  were  gathered  for  the 
thrashing.  More  and  more  he  had  followed  Ashton's 
injunction,  "  Don't  take  yourself  too  seriously.  That 
is  where  your  only  grave  loss  comes  in,"  he  had 
added,  as  Ballantyne  looked  questioningly  at  him. 
"  On  your  side  of  the  sea,  —  well,  on  their  side, 
then,  —  there  is  a  kind  of  heavy  gathering  together, 


224  BALLANTYNE 

as  of  so  many  stones  to  be  broken  for  roadway.  You 
have  lost  the  touch  and  go  of  a  genuine  American. 
Humor  enough  in  you,  but  Philistinism  has  been  too 
much  for  you.  Take  surfaces  more.  The  deeps 
crop  up  of  themselves." 

"The  fact  is,"  Ballantyne  replied,  "you  write  me 
down  as  a  ponderous  prig." 

"  My  dear  fellow  !  "  Ashton  returned,  genuinely 
shocked,  "  all  I  mean  is,  that  you  seem  to  be  making 
a  matter  of  life  and  death  out  of  what  really  is  only 
a  scamper,  a  mere  scamper,  after  some  general  in 
formation." 

A  sudden  change  of  expression  in  Ballantyne's 
face,  a  flash  gone  as  soon  as  perceived  ;  but  Ashton 
had  caught  it,  and  turned  away,  with  inward  wonder 
as  to  what  might  be  involved  ;  nor  did  it  lessen  as  the 
days  went  on.  So  the  West  yielded  such  quota  as 
time  allowed,  and  at  last  they  faced  East  again,  with 
Boston  as  the  end  of  the  journey  ;  and  Ashton,  as 
they  left  the  station,  stretched  his  arms  to  the  gilded 
dome  of  the  State  House,  as  if  he  would  embrace  it 
and  all  Boston  at  once. 

"  Heaven  be  praised  for  its  substantiality !  "  he 
said.  "We  have  dealt  with  clapboards  and  paper 
sidings,  till  I  had  forgotten  that  the  permanent  could 
be.  It 's  a  great  country." 

"  If  you  would  be  content  with  anything  so  anti- 
modern  as  Pinckney  Street,"  Mrs.  LeBaron  said, 
after  their  first  greetings  were  over ;  "  the  people 
who  took  Marion's  house  have  signified  that  they 


BALLANTYNE  225 

will  give  you  the  second  floor.  There  have  been 
some  reverses,  and  they  want  to  get  just  the  right 
kind  of  lodger.  Then,  if  you  find  nothing  better, 
you  can  come  here  for  meals,  for  it  is  hardly  a 
stone's  throw  away,  and  in  that  way  I  shall  have 
something  of  you,  unless,  indeed,  you  are  off  again  at 
once." 

"  No,  I  have  come  home  for  refreshment,  and  the 
rest  must  wait  a  little,"  Ballantyne  answered,  look 
ing  about  with  full  conviction  that  here  was,  thus 
far,  the  one  spot  that  best  deserved  the  name  of 
home. 

"  Can  these  rooms  be  had  at  once  ? "  he  asked. 

"  This  hour,  if  you  like." 

"  Then  I  will  see  that  instant  possession  is  taken," 
he  said,  with  inward  delight  that  he  was  thus  to  have 
some  part  in  life  that  had  been  Marion's  ;  and  within 
an  hour  he  had  fulfilled  his  word,  and  till  dinner 
busied  himself  with  a  more  thorough  unpacking  than 
he  had  known  since  his  arrival.  Here  should  be 
headquarters  for  all  further  stay,  and  he  fancied 
Marion's  amazement  if  she  could  look  in  upon  his 
appropriation  of  what,  he  was  told,  had  been  her 
own  room  and  her  father's. 

"  We  took  it  just  as  it  stood,"  said  the  severe  and 
rigid  matron,  who  showed  the  rooms.  "  They 
packed  up  books  and  light  things  I  did  n't  want  to 
be  responsible  for,  but  they  left  all  the  rest  just  as 
old  Lawyer  Gardiner  had  it  from  the  beginning. 
It 's  all  solid  mahogany  and  rosewood,  the  whole 


126  BALLANTYNE 

house,  and  they  say  Mr.  Lacy  never  altered  a  thing. 
I  'm  not  one  to  change  myself,  but  if  you  feel  to 
move  things  round,  of  course  you  can." 

u  I  want  no  change,"  Ballantyne  said,  u  it  satis 
fies  me  as  it  is ;  "  and  the  relieved  look  on  Mrs. 
Cutter's  face  showed  what  apprehension  had  been  in 
her  mind.  He  sat  quietly  for.  a  few  minutes  when 
she  had  gone  down,  looking  at  one  and  another  ar 
ticle  and  fancying  the  little  Marion  as  she  moved 
among  them.  She  would  know  that  he  was  here,  for 
his  letters  to  Miss  Ryde  were  minute  in  detail,  though 
in  none  of  them  had  he  allowed  discouragement  or 
weariness  to  come  uppermost.  To  feel  either  on 
such  ground  as  this  was  an  insult  to  all  that  made  it 
sacred.  Here,  at  least,  real  life  would  be  found  ;  and 
he  went  round  to  dinner  with  a  look  of  something 
very  near  happiness  in  his  face. 

Mischief  was  in  Miss  Howard's  eyes  as  she  watched 
his  surprised  reception  of  the  little  pile  of  notes  that 
had  accumulated  on  Mrs.  LeBaron's  table,  and  her 
own  eyes  danced  as  she  handed  them  to  him. 

"  '  Strictly  private  seance  at  Nabula  Hall.'  'The 
distinguished  Christian  Scientist,  Dr.  Alonzo  Twitch- 
ell,  requests,'  etc.  '  Slight  contribution  to  further  the 
mission  of  the  Mothers  anti-Military  Association.' 
'Browning  Tea '  at  Miss  Octavia  Bostwick's,  and 
dinners  galore,"  she  said,  seriously.  "  As  an  old  Bos- 
tonian  and  an  old  more  or  less  newspaper  woman,  by 
proxy  at  least,  I  know  these  writings  and  what  awaits 
you." 


BALLANTYNE  227 

"  But  how  has  any  one  known  the  time  of  my 
appearing  ?  and  why  do  they  ask  me  ?  " 

"  Pure  divination.  The  end  of  one  craze  draweth 
near.  Boston  feels  this,  but  knows  also  that  if  one 
is  exhausted  another  evolves  as  by  magic.  Not  once 
since  the  days  of  Anne  Hutchinson  and  her  after 
noon  readings  and  expoundings  to  colonial  dames  in 
search  of  excitement  has  life  failed  to  offer  an  op 
portunity.  The  mere  mention  of  your  name  was 
enough.  Don't  look  at  me  in  that  way.  Mrs.  Bar- 
stow  is  responsible.  She  has  besieged  me  for  a  month 
to  know  the  date  of  your  return." 

"That  sets  the  seal,  you  know,"  said  Ashton. 
"  Not  that  you  needed  it,  but  what  she  sanctions 
cannot  be  questioned ;  and  even  when  the  first  fervor 
is  over,  you  are  let  down  easily  into  a  permanent 
niche  as  it  were." 

"  I  hope  your  predecessor  realizes  this,  and  will  not 
take  his  displacement  too  hard,"  said  Brownson,  with 
a  cynical  smile. 

"  We  will  wait  to  see  how  efficiently  or  otherwise 
I  fill  the  required  role"  Ballantyne  answered,  his  look 
of  annoyance  giving  way  to  amusement.  "  Tell  me 
his,  and  I  may  be  better  able  to  live  up  to  the  present 
expectation." 

Simon  had  struck  the  Burmese  gong,  and  he  paused, 
as  they  all  did,  to  listen  with  delight  to  the  sweet, 
slow,  dying  fall  of  the  pure  note,  lingering  on*  the 
stairs  for  the  last  vibrations. 

"  It  would   calm   the  maddest   Republican  of  the 


BALLANTYNE 


whole   mad   brood  to-day,"   said  Ashton.     "I   have 
just  come  from  a  report  of  their  doings." 

"  Consider  them  soothed  into  silence,"  said  Mar 
garet  Howard,  promptly.  «  I  want  to  tell  Mr.  Bal- 
lantyne  about  his  predecessor.  He  is  a  New-Yorker, 
which  is  the  miraculous  thing  about  it,  for  Boston 
usually  prefers  even  Kalamazoo.  Perhaps  his  having 
been  born  abroad  is  regarded  as  atonement.  He  is  a 
young  sculptor,  or  sculptor  to  be,  for  I  believe  his 
talent  is  only  potential  as  yet.  He  is  handsome  as  a 
Greek  god,  and  irresistible  as  one  of  Ouida's  guards 
men.  His  voice  is  divine.  That  and  his  beauty  have 
captured  every  maiden  in  the  town,  from  our  most  an 
cient  and  honorable,  an  enthusiast  of  eighty-five,  down 
to  the  present  narrator  and  victim  of  his  charms." 

"  He  's  a  conceited  cad,"  struck  in  Brownson,  with 
unusual  fire,  and  a  dark  look  at  Margaret. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  have  studied  him,  and  he 
is  nothing  of  the  sort,"  she  returned,  promptly.  «  He 
is  accustomed  to  adoration,  and  so  takes  it  in  rather 
large  doses,  but  still  with  perfect  calmness.  His 
reading  is  delicious,  idyllic,  Elysian.  Pan  and  his 
pipes  are  nowhere." 

«  Hear,  hear  !  "  cried  Ralph,  who  had  grinned 
wickedly,  as  Ashton  looked  inquiringly  at  him. 
"  They  all  go  on  that  way,  Brownson.  I  have  been 
in  daily  expectation  of  seeing  a  procession,  with 
wreaths  of  parsley  and  bay  and  banners  and  silver 
trumpets,  escorting  him  to  the  dome  of  the  State 
House  and  crowning  him  before  all  Boston." 


BALLANTYNE  229 

cc  And  he  would  submit  with  that  indolent,  gracious 
sweetness,  and  just  a  suspicion  of  scorn  below,"  said 
Margaret. 

"  Scorn  !  "  repeated  Mrs.  LeBaron  ;  "  what  can 
you  mean,  child  ?  Well-disguised  but  omnivorous 
greediness  I  call  it.  Till  he  stops  reading  poetry  to 
an  army  of  crazy  women,  and  goes  to  work,  I  have 
no  faith  in  him.  You  see  what  you  have  to  live  up 
to,  John." 

"  Now  Heaven  forbid  !  "  Ballantyne  said,  with 
genuine  consternation.  "  I  retire  to  the  desert.  The 
thought  of  even  appearing  in  public  with  such  com 
parison  hanging  over  one  is  benumbing.  I  devote 
myself  to  Louisburg  Square.  Beyond  that  I  will  not 
be  dragged,  unless  perhaps  to  a  Browning  tea.  That 
has  a  mysterious  sound.  What  does  one  do  ?  " 

"  We  go  in  character,"  said  Ralph  Howard. 
"  '  Red  cotton  nightcaps,'  etc.  Learn  our  lines,  and 
play  up  to  them.  '  Sordello,'  for  example,  and  trivi 
alities  of  that  nature,  that  fit  in  between  the  cups  of 
tea  and  macaroons.  I  recommend  that  for  your  con 
sideration.  What  Boston  demands,  you  see,  is  the 
incomprehensible.  She  understands  nothing  less. 
She  will  have  it,  and  we  must  admit  she  gets  it.  I 
regard  this  winter  as  the  culminating  triumph  of  the 
uttered  unutterable,  the  possed  impossible,  the  scruted 
inscrutable." 

"  You  are  a  profane  trifler,"  said  Ashton,  "  and 
incapable  of  reverence  for  anything  that  is  or  is  to 
be." 


230  BALLANTYNE 

"Wait,"  said  Ralph,  with  a  look  toward  Ballan- 
tyne,  which  missed  its  mark,  for  Mrs.  LeBaron  had 
asked  a  question  that  opened  up  a  discussion  as  to 
differences  between  East  and  West,  prolonged  after 
they  had  left  the  table,  and  laid  aside  for  resumption 
when  they  separated. 

Within  a  fortnight  the  prophecy  had  fulfilled  itself, 
and  Ballantyne  found  himself  the  fashion.  A  dinner 
at  Mrs.  Barstow's  was  the  prelude,  and,  notwith 
standing  a  certain  inward  irritation  as  he  thought 
of  her,  it  proved  enjoyable  and  interesting,  the  six 
well-chosen  guests  all  combining  to  make  it  so.  Tom 
Barstow,  so  English  that  he  had  even  mastered  the 
monocle  and  its  stony  glare,  and  perfected  his  languid 
tolerance  of  life  in  general,  to  its  extremest  expression 
of  bored  endurance,  devoted  himself,  if  so  strong  a 
word  might  be  permitted,  as  a  summary  of  his  action. 
A  little  surprised  at  Ballantyne's  pronounced  indiffer 
ence,  he  held  it  as  another  evidence  of  good  form 
and  the  possibilities  of  attainment  for  any  Bostoner 
sufficiently  well  born  and  sufficiently  equipped  with 
what  even  Boston  adds  as  the  necessary  setting 
for  birth,  —  a  fortune  large  enough  to  adorn  it  at 
will. 

"  Bonnets  ten  deep  around  him,"  Margaret  Howard 
reported  in  private  to  Mrs.  LeBaron,  on  her  return 
from  the  Browning  tea.  "  Young  Norton  and  his 
voice  are  permanently  in  the  background.  Poor 
Norton  ! " 

"  He  was  a  boy,  and  this  is  a  man,"  Mrs.  LeBaron 


BALLANTYNE  231 

answered.  "  You  will  not  spoil  John,  whatever  you 
do." 

"  Don't  be  too  certain,"  Margaret  said ;  u  though 
they  shall  not  if  I  can  help  it.  I  think,  however,  that 
he  needs  taking  down.  He  has  a  certain  superb  way 
with  him  as  the  bonnets  kotow,  as  if  homage  did  not 
come  amiss." 

Certainly  in  this  quiet  corner,  which  he  saw  far 
less  than  he  wished,  there  was  little  fear  that  he 
would  suffer  for  lack  of  criticism.  He  had  fallen 
into  thorough  intimacy  with  the  group,  and  Margaret 
and  especially  Ashton  let  no  opportunity  slip  for  jeer 
ing  at  the  present  enthusiasm  and  the  downfall  to 
come.  Brownson  joined  them,  but  with  more  re 
serve,  fearful  always  that  Margaret,  who  slighted 
him  perversely,  would  be  genuinely  entangled  in  the 
meshes  of  this  universal  net.  The  discipline  was  not 
bad  for  him.  The  prize  he  sought  proved  even  better 
worth  winning  than  his  first  leaning  toward  it  had  in 
dicated,  and  he  was  fast  becoming  what  Ralph  had 
sworn  he  was  too  lost  in  himself  ever  to  be,  —  an 
ardent  and  determined  lover,  yet  more  and  more  dis 
trustful  of  his  worthiness  to  win. 

Ballantyne  in  the  meantime  was  making  his  own 
inward  election.  He  heard  a  vast  amount  of  brilliant 
and  sparkling  talk.  The  most  charming  of  London 
drawing-rooms  could  hardly  offer  a  range  more  varied 
or  more  skilfully  handled.  A  certain  rigidity,  an 
unsmiling,  almost  solemn  performance  of  necessary 
forms,  he  found  the  characteristic  of  many,  and  he 


B ALLANTYNE 


missed  a  quiet  simplicity  of  speech  and  manner  that 
belongs  to  the  best  type  of  Englishwoman.  But  the 
keen  humor  which  delighted  him,  coming  out  from 
the  most  unexpected  ground,  was  absolutely  Ameri 
can,  and  the  one  refreshing  element  in  seas  of 
Philistinism. 

For  Philistinism  was  rampant,  from  the  Cambridge 
professor  with  his  solemn  mannerisms,  down  through 
the  whole  warp  and  woof  of  the  society  which  he 
adorned.  Now  and  then  Ballantyne  encountered 
a  simple,  direct,  natural  soul,  and  caught  eagerly 
at  such  chance  of  refreshment ;  but  for  the  most 
part  they  were  stray  members  of  the  general  scheme, 
and  fled  from  it  in  dismay  as  its  real  nature  dawned 
upon  them.  An  artist  or  two,  serenely  holding  to 
ideals ;  here  and  there  a  literary  man  who  went  his 
own  way  unmoved  by  any  traditions  as  to  what 
Boston  expected  of  him,  —  these  meant  the  real  life, 
untouched  by  caprices  and  fads  and  sudden  crazes. 

Each  and  all  of  these  came  freely  to  the  quiet 
drawing-room  in  the  old  square,  a  little  distrustful 
at  first  of  this  latest  Boston  epidemic,  but  accepting 
him  shortly  on  his  own  merits,  and  in  turn  telling 
him  of  one  and  another  whom  it  would  mean 
something  to  know.  These  were  real  people,  and 
life  with  such  would  be  possible  and  full  of  meaning. 
If  Marion  had  known  them,  she  might  have  come  to 
different  conclusions;  yet  what  a  small  percentage 
they  represented,  what  an  infinitesimal  leaven  for  this 
mass  that  weighed  upon  and  oppressed  him  ! 


BALLANTYNE  233 

"  I  had  to  weed  and  sift  when  Dunbar  died,  and 
the  need  of  earning  arose,"  Mrs.  LeBaron  had  told 
him,  after  a  little  summary  of  what  he  was  likely  to 
meet  in  her  house.  "  Before  that  I  drifted,  and 
went  about  a  good  deal,  though  I  entertained  much 
more  at  home.  Dunbar's  interests  were  so  wide, 
that  I  think  the  best  of  everything  gravitated  nat 
urally  to  him.  Now  I  am  grateful  for  all  that 
remains." 

May  had  half  ended.  A  hint  of  summer  came 
now  and  then  in  the  air.  Already  Ballantyne  had 
had  invitations  innumerable  for  seashore  and  mountain 
and  the  sacred  recesses  of  Berkshire  hills,  and  had 
waived  them  all  with  the  reply  that  his  plans  were 
altogether  uncertain.  New  York  must  be  seen  before 
the  summer  exodus  began,  but  he  thought  reluctantly 
of  the  necessity  for  change.  He  had  lately  met  a  shy 
Harvard  professor,  refusing  any  general  society,  and 
absorbed  in  his  psychological  studies,  a  man  of  child 
like  simplicity  yet  deepest  wisdom,  intercourse  with 
whom  was  a  delight,  and  who  seemed  in  turn  no  less 
attracted.  Whatever  New  York  had  to  offer  could 
not  weigh  against  the  certainties  opening  here ;  but 
he  was  pledged  by  his  letter  to  certain  society  claims 
which  must  be  met,  and  he  had  not  forgotten  his 
half-unwilling  promise  to  Percival. 

"The  tail  of  the  comet  has  not  dwindled;  its 
splendor  is  still  as  dazzling,"  Ashton  said  at  dinner 
the  day  on  which  Ballantyne  had  said  to  himself  that 
for  a  time  all  this  must  end.  u  But  I  warned  you 


234  BALLANTYNE 

fairly,  and  already  there  are  dim  indications  of  another 
to  come." 

"  Impossible ! "  Mrs.  LeBaron  said,  in  mock 
dismay. 

"  Only  a  spark,  as  it  were ;  an  English  spark,  for 
they  have  lost  relish  for  the  American  order.  A 
young  Percival  they  say,  in  the  ethical  line,  it  appears, 
and  crying  like  a  young  John  in  the  desert  for  a  reform 
of  everything.  Beautiful  as  Del  Sarto's  St.  John, 
they  say,  and  unworldly  as  an  infant  of  days." 

"  Is  he  here  or  on  the  way  ?  "  asked  Ballantyne,  in 
some  wonder. 

"To  come.  He  was  here  last  month,  it  seems, 
with  a  man  who  has  had  his  run  in  Boston  also,  — 
a  great  linguist  and  up  in  Greek  art.  He  has  been 
giving  some  lectures  at  a  small  college  not  far  away, 
and  this  Percival  bowled  the  town  over,  I  am  told, 
with  something  of  his  own,  '  Tendencies  of  English 
Society,'  or  something  of  that  nature.  A  Boston 
prophet  heard  him,  and  has  brought  back  the  tidings, 
and  now  there  is  conference  as  to  getting  hold  of  him 
next  fall.  The  king  is  dead  !  Long  live  the  king  ! 
You  know  him  ?  "  —  as  something  in  Ballantyne's 
look  struck  him. 

"  A  little,  yes.  We  crossed  together.  I  congrat 
ulate  Boston  on  its  discernment,"  he  said,  with  a 
smile;  and  Ashton,  obeying  the  momentary  glance 
from  Mrs.  LeBaron,  turned  the  talk  in  another 
direction. 

u  Shall  you  give  up  your  rooms  ? "   she  asked,  as 


BALLANTYNE  235 

Ballantyne  lingered  for  a  little  before  leaving  her  to 
a  bit  of  work  which  had  compelled  the  renouncing 
of  their  evening  together. 

"  Not  I.  This  is  home,"  he  said,  with  quick 
decision.  A  look  of  thorough  relief  was  on  her  face, 
but  there  was  no  time  for  the  explanation  he  had 
more  than  once  meant  to  ask.  Evidently  the  thought 
connected  with  Morris  troubled  her;  but  as  she  had 
not  spoken,  perhaps  she  preferred  silence,  and  he  still 
delayed  question,  uncertain  how  to  interpret  it. 

Letters  from  Percival  within  a  day  or  two  waxed 
impatient. 

cc  You  are  pledged  to  us  for  a  season,  you  know," 
he  said.  "  I  shall  be  at  the  Fall  River  dock  for  you 
on  Friday  morning  unless  you  wire  otherwise." 

Ballantyne  took  the  letter  in  to  Mrs.  LeBaron. 
"  The  summons  has  come,"  he  said.  u  After  all  I 
am  somewhat  curious.  I  should  like  to  understand 
the  man." 

A  singular  look  crossed  Mrs.  LeBaron's  face. 

"There  are  several  things  to  learn,"  she  said. 
"  When  you  are  back  again,  we  will  compare  notes." 


Chapter   Fifth 


BALLANTYNE,  who    had  returned   early 
in  the  evening,  intending  to  write  letters 
for    the    English   mail,    found    Professor 
Sutton   sitting  by  the   table  lost  in  study 
over  a  card  which  he  held   in  his  hand. 

"  The  comet  has  come  again,  out  of  space,"  he 
said.  "Your  pardon,  Ballantyne.  I  came  up  to 
leave  a  book,  and  this  card  lying  here  caught  my 
eye.  Where  have  you  met  Pendleton  Morris  ?  " 

"  On  shipboard  coming  over.  Do  you  know  him, 
Sutton  ? " 

"  I  don't  know,"  the  professor  replied,  hesitatingly. 
"  I  know  such  sides  as  I  am  able  to  comprehend, 
but  there  were  too  many  for  me.  He  has  profound 
ability ;  yes,  more  than  ability ;  profound  power, 

but, "      He  hesitated,  then  added,  "Drop  him.     I 

do  not  like  to  talk  of  people." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Ballantyne,  "  save  as  they  form  ma 
terial  for  deduction.  Mere  gossip  is  detestable,  but 
this  means  something  you  can  help  me  in.  I  am  going 
to  his  colony  for  a  time.  I  want  your  view  of  him." 
The  young  professor's  serene,  thoughtful  eyes 
rested  on  him  with  sudden  trouble. 


BALLANTYNE  237 

"  Did  you were  you  much  attracted  to  him  ?  " 

«  On  the  contrary.  There  was  no  good  reason, 
but  I  had  almost  antipathy  from  the  beginning.  It 
was  unreasonable,  for  I  found  him  a  fascinating 
companion,  of  absolutely  marvellous  knowledge,  but 
in  spite  of  this  distrusted  him.  You  know  him. 
Was  I  wrong  ?  What  does  he  mean  to  you  as  a 
man  ?  " 

Ballantyne  had  laid  deliberate  stress  on  the  noun. 
His  own  thought  wavered  from  hour  to  hour,  at  mo 
ments  certain  that  his  suspicion  was  fact,  at  others 
scoffing  at  his  own,  apparently  fixed  delusion,  since 
dismiss  it  he  could  not.  Now  he  fixed  his  eyes  on 
his  visitor's  face,  and  as  he  saw  its  utter  unsuspicious- 
ness  doubted  again. 

"  A  man"  he  repeated,  with  the  former  emphasis. 

Sutton  shook  his  head. 

"  A  mixture  of  mediaeval  monk  and  ancient  Greek, 
with  the  worst  and  best  characteristics  of  each,  and 
topped  with  the  utmost  possibilities  of  Scotch  dogma 
tism  and  Scotch  self-esteem." 

«  So  I  am  told,"  Ballantyne  answered.  "  I  begin 
to  understand  better,  but  there  are  other  points. 
The  old  Greeks  had  some  odd  theories.  Is  he  the 
exponent  of  them  all  ?  " 

"  You  will  see  for  yourself,"  Sutton  said,  hastily. 
"  If  you  can  adjust  yourself  to  the  combination,  you 
have  the  learning  of  the  ages  on  tap,  as  it  were, 
and  it  is  the  flow  of  pure  water  from  a  real 


source." 


238  BALLANTYNE 

"  But,"  began  Ballantyne. 

"  Use  your  own  eyes,  my  friend,'*  the  professor 
said,  decisively.  "Your  prejudice  is  your  present 
safeguard,  and  if  it  melts,  why,  so  much  the  better.  I 
have  profound  admiration  for  Morris's  power.  For 
the  rest,  each  must  judge  for  himself.  If  his  mission 
is  true,  no  man  can  overthrow  it.  I  wish  him  well. 
By  the  way,"  he  added,  "  this  card  has  a  message.  I 
should  have  handed  it  to  you  at  once." 

Ballantyne  took  it  and  read  pencilled  below  the 
name,  "  I  shall  call  again  about  ten.  J.  P.  M."  He 
frowned  slightly,  tossed  it  into  the  waste  basket,  and 
took  up  the  book  his  friend  had  brought,  a  Report 
of  the  Psychical  Society,  with  details  of  some  recent 
and  singular  experiments  with  a  trusted  medium,  and 
soon  both  were  deep  in  eager  discussion  of  the  points 
involved.  The  bell  rang  unnoted,  and  both  looked 
up  in  surprise  as  the  servant  announced  Morris  and 
Percival,  the  former  entering  with  the  breezy  self- 
confidence  that  was  his  usual  manner.  Percival's 
eyes  beamed  with  pleasure  as  he  came  forward,  half 
shyly. 

"  I  followed  my  letter,  you  see,"  he  said.  "  We 
came  yesterday  for  an  engagement,  and  take  the  mid 
night  train  on,  for  we  are  both  due  at  some  affair  to 
morrow,  where  Morris  is  to  read  Italian  poetry.  We 
cannot  ask  you  to  do  that,  I  fear." 

"  You  are  not  to  read  Italian  poetry,  I  am  sure," 
Ballantyne  said,  with  a  sudden  impulse.  u  Stay  over, 
and  I  will  go  with  you  on  Monday." 


BALLANTYNE  239 

"  Agreed,"  Percival  said,  heartily  ;  "  unless  Morris 
counts  me  recreant.  I  am  under  orders." 

"  Not  I,"  the  latter  replied,  whirling  round  from 
his  profuse  handshaking  with  the  professor,  whose 
eyes  were  on  him  interestedly.  "  This  is  Thursday. 
You  can  get  quite  the  flavor  of  Boston  in  four  days, 
but  don't  let  it  spoil  the  New  York  cup.  Ha !  At 
the  old  mystery,  I  see,"  he  went  on,  his  quick  eye 
noting  the  open  Report  on  the  table.  "  Does  Har 
vard  intend  to  permit  dabbling  in  the  occult  ?  " 

"  Call  it  by  the  right  name,  and  she  permits  any 
thing,"  Professor  Sutton  said,  significantly.  "  This 
is  one  phase.  I  am  at  another.  We  are  in  the  midst 
just  now,  the  two  or  three  of  us  who  have  been  fol 
lowing  up  this  thing,  of  a  very  queer  case,  a  match 
for  Lys,  with  his  sub  sub-consciousness,"  and  he  went 
on  with  a  detailed  account  of  the  circumstances. 

"  It  is  actual  demonstration,"  he  added.  "  There 
can  be  no  doubt  of  this  third  consciousness,  and  there 
may  be  another." 

u  In  layers  like  an  onion,"  Morris  said,  laughing. 
"  Peel  and  peel  on  the  way  to  the  heart,  and  sud 
denly  there  is  a  hole,  and  the  layers  are  over,  and  the 
heart  is  not,  but  the  excitement  keeps  up  to  the  last 
instant  and  the  final  revelation  of —  nothing." 

"  That  is  your  personal  interpretation,"  the  pro 
fessor  said,  quietly.  "  Undoubtedly  it  fits  one  type. 
Man  is  a  complex  creature,  and  the  new  science  shows 
him  even  more  so  than  the  wisest  have  believed." 

"  If  self-hypnotization   were    practicable,"  Morris 


24o  BALLANTYNE 

said,  still  laughing,  but  uneasily,  "  I  should  proceed 
at  once  to  it.  In  the  end  I  might  come  to  understand 
my  own  composition.  On  the  whole,  I  think  I  be 
lieve  in  the  hole-in-the-middle  theory." 

"  You  have  some  reason,"  Professor  Sutton  an 
swered,  with  a  smile,  but  his  eyes  rested  attentively 
on  Morris's  face,  as  he  talked  on  more  and  more 
eagerly,  till  aroused  to  the  consciousness  that  he  had 
barely  time  for  his  train. 

"  Don't  come  alone,  Tom,"  he  said,  throwing  his 
arm  about  Percival  for  a  moment,  with  the  impulsive 
affectionateness  Ballantyne  had  noted  on  shipboard, 
and  with  a  tumultuous  shaking  of  hands  he  vanished 
into  the  night. 

Ballantyne  in  the  morning  sent  a  note  to  Mrs. 
Barstow,  where  he  was  engaged  to  dine,  asking  if  he 
might  bring  Percival,  and  received  delighted  consent, 
and  cards  for  this  rising  sun,  who,  quite  unconscious 
of  any  glory  to  come,  had  settled  into  Mrs.  LeBaron's 
cosiest  corner,  his  eyes  resting  on  her  with  purest 
pleasure  as  they  fell  at  once  into  eager  talk.  Work 
waited  meantime,  and  she  dismissed  them  reluctantly, 
a  little  aggrieved  that  the  evening  was  promised,  and 
claiming  Saturday  at  least  as  her  own.  Ballantyne 
seconded  her  strenuously. 

"  A  taste,  a  mere  sip,  is  all  you  are  to  have  of  Bos 
ton  now,"  he  said  -,  "  but  it  is  as  fatal  as  your  soldi  for 
the  Fountain  of  Trevi.  You  will  return  in  spite  of 
yourself,  and  Boston  is  as  certain  as  Rome." 

He  smiled  as  he  spoke,  for  Ashton,  as  he  passed 


BALLANTYNE  241 

through,  had  lingered  long  enough  to  say,  ostensibly 
to  Mrs.  LeBaron,  but  with  a  wicked  look  at  her 
companions  : 

"  The  king  abdicates  and  presents  his  own  suc 
cessor  to-night,  I  hear.  That 's  an  artful  dodge,  and 
lets  him  retire  with  colors  still  flying.  The  king 
never  dies." 

The  dinner  ended  in  a  crowded  evening  and  an 
assured  sensation,  and  Mrs.  Barstow  was  serenely 
radiant.  It  was  a  joy  she  owed  to  Ballantvne,  whose 
star  as  yet  showed  no  signs  of  paling,  and  she  was 
more  than  grateful.  Percival  was  a  trifle  shy,  but 
most  charmingly  simple  and  unconscious ;  and  his 
beautiful  head,  though  lower  by  several  inches  than 
Ballantyne's  towering  one,  lost  little  in  comparison. 
The  evening  was  practically  an  ovation  to  both,  the 
unexpected  appearance  of  this  new  light,  whose  ad 
vent  had  only  been  whispered,  exciting  curiosity  to 
the  highest.  Percival  at  last,  a  trifle  impatient,  had 
suggested  their  going,  and  moved  toward  the  door 
where  Mrs.  Barstow  was  standing.  There  was  a 
sudden  stir  ;  a  pause  of  expectation  which  seemed  to 
fall  on  all  about,  and  in  the  instant  before  talk  went 
on  again  they  were  aware  of  a  figure  tall  as  Ballan 
tyne's  own,  and  a  head,  as  Ashton  had  affirmed,  like 
a  young  Greek  god,  the  owner  of  which,  looking 
about  serenely  as  if  certain  of  his  kingdom,  advanced 
slowly  with  a  word  here  and  there.  Then  his  eyes 
fell  upon  Percival,  and  he  put  out  his  hand  with  a 
look  of  pleasure. 

16 


242  BALLANTYNE 

"  How  is  this  ?  "  he  said.  "  I  did  not  expect  to 
see  you  in  Boston." 

u  Mr.  Ballantyne  is  responsible,"  Percival  said, 
presenting  them,  and  for  a  few  moments  the  three 
men  made  a  group  on  which  all  eyes  rested.  Bal- 
lantyne's  ears  were  phenomenally  acute,  and  as  they 
chatted,  words  came  to  him  in  a  tone  lowered  but 
perfectly  distinct. 

"  This  is  a  great  go  ;  the  three  Graces  on  exhibi 
tion  together." 

"  You  are  mistaken.  It  is  Past,  Present,  and 
Future,"  a  high-pitched  voice  responded.  Ballantyne 
laughed  outright  as  the  speaker,  who  had  met  his  smil 
ing  eyes,  colored  furiously,  and  then,  obeying  Perci- 
val's  hand  on  his  arm,  made  his  way  toward  Mrs. 
Barstow,  from  whom  they  escaped  with  difficulty. 
Norton  had  preceded  them,  and  she  met  him  with 
effusion,  from  which  he  turned  to  follow  the  pair  he 
had  just  left. 

"  I  shall  see  you  next  week,"  he  said  to  Percival. 
"  Mind  that  you  do  not  find  any  excuse  for  taking 
yourself  away.  It  is  you  I  am  coming  to,  you  know." 

"  Then  you  have  consented  ?  That  is  very  good," 
Percival  said,  in  a  surprised  tone. 

"  Yes,  for  a  day  or  two,"  Norton  replied,  and 
turned  back. 

"  It  is  another  case  of  love  at  first  sight,"  Percival 
said,  with  a  little  trouble  in  his  voice.  "  He  came  to 
hear  some  of  the  lectures,  and  Morris,  who  has  an 
even  stronger  passion  for  beauty  than  I  supposed, 


BALLANTYNE 


became  enamored  on  the  spot.  He  is  certainly  glori 
ously  handsome  ;  beautiful,  for  that  is  a  better  word 
than  any  mere  handsome  you  know,  and  Morris  so 
besieged  him  that  after  a  time  he  consented,  and  is  to 
stay  some  weeks,  I  think,  unless  plans  change." 
Ballantyne  laughed  again. 

u  It  is  a  most  extraordinary  combination,'*  he  said; 
and  then,  without  explaining,  went  on,  "  Now,  tell  me 
how  the  evening  sums  up." 

u  Too  much  honey,"  said  Percival.  «  It  is  un 
natural  diet,  and  leaves  a  bad  taste  in  the  mouth. 
Morris  says  it  exhilarates  him  like  champagne, 
though  he  knows  well  it  is  only  mead  and  bubble. 
Me  it  depresses,  and  wine,  oddly  enough,  has  the 
same  effect.  This  is  all  very  strange  to  me.  I  was 
told  Boston  was  critical  to  a  degree.  It  does  n't 
look  like  it." 

"  This  is  the  beginning,"  Ballantyne  said.  "  For 
final  judgment  you  will  have  to  wait.  This  time  I 
reserve  you  chiefly  for  the  LeBaron  household. 
There  is  no  disappointment  there." 

"  No,  there  could  not  be.  What  a  grand  woman 
she  is,"  Percival  said,  eagerly.  "  I  have  seen  no  one 
like  her.  New  York  has  a  different  type.  They  are 
charming,  I  find,  a  great  many  of  them,  and  swift  of 
speech,  but  different.  Your  Miss  Howard  might 
grow  to  be  a  little  like  her." 

"  There  is  a  look  of  such  possibility,"  Ballantyne 
answered,  "  and  her  quality  is  fine.  You  have  quick 
eyes,  Percival." 


244  B  A  L  L  A  N  TYNE 

"  Too  quick,  perhaps,"  he  said.  "  Morris  will  have 
it  that  I  should  have  none,  so  far  as  women  are  con 
cerned,  till  I  am  thirty  or  more,  but  I  am  disposed 
to  use  them  as  I  go." 

"  The  better  way  for  most  of  us,"  Ballantyne 
answered,  curious  but  determined  to  make  no  other 
comment,  and  the  talk  drifted  on  lightly  till  they 
parted  for  the  night. 

For  himself,  he  sat  late  finishing  a  long  letter  to 
Miss  Ryde,  in  which  he  gave  her  the  history  of  the 
last  fortnight  in  Boston.  He  paused  for  a  while,  and 
took  from  his  pocket  the  last  that  he  had  received 
from  her,  reading  over  and  over  a  paragraph  or  two 
at  the  close. 

"  Hetherington,  to  whom,  you  know,  Eleanor  had 
long  ago  been  assigned,  but  whose  indifferent  tem 
perament  never  got  beyond  friendship,  is  developing  a 
most  unexpected  fervor.  Whether  it  is  natural  growth 
that  is  responsible  I  do  not  yet  decide,  for  no  one 
knows  what  mysterious  strata  in  a  boy's  make-up 
may  suddenly  come  uppermost.  I  notice,  though, 
that  in  such  cases  the  strata  are  always  of  the  ear 
liest  period  known,  and  thus  naturally  to  be  labelled 
1  Amor.'  So  it  is  now,  and  Beresford  may  be  said  to 
have  begun  it,  since  his  frantic  adoration  of  Marion  is 
a  source  of  perennial  jibing  and  jeering  from  the  set 
who  have  listened  to  his  anti-matrimonial  tirades.  He 
would  marry  her  if  he  could,  I  honestly  believe,  for 
he  has  offered  himself  in  private,  in  public,  in  diverse 
and  sundry  places  and  manners ;  has  appealed  to  me, 


BALLANTYNE  245 

and  is  in  the  depths  of  infatuation.  For  all  this, 
Marion  goes  her  way  untouched  and  untouchable. 

"  As  for  Hetherington,  he  is  no  less  mad,  but  it  is  a 
silent  lunacy.  He  is  desperately  in  earnest,  and  I 
know  she  is  sorry  for  him ;  but  no  discipline  could 
be  better  for  the  young  cub,  who  has  never  till  now 
shown  real  affection  for  any  one  but  yourself.  As  to 
Marion,  whatever  the  end  may  be,  she  has  thought 
for  no  one  but  you,  and  thus  far  I  think  she  is  certain 
that  you  will  return  to  stay.  How  is  it,  John  ?  Eight 
months  are  gone.  You  must  have  some  inkling  of 
the  final  summary.  This  is  not  a  question,  however. 
It  is  merely  natural  longing  to  answer  myself  as  I 
would,  yet  do  not  believe  I  ever  shall.  Naturally  I 
draw  my  own  conclusions  from  the  array  of  facts  your 
letters  present,  but  they  daunt  one  no  more  than  facts 
everywhere.  I  read  without  comment  to  Marion,  and 
she  listens  in  the  same  way,  and  each  understands  the 
silence  of  the  other.  Were  no  thought  of  you  upper 
most,  she  would  be  absolutely  contented  with  life  as  it 
offers  itself.  It  is  plain  that  to  wait  is  the  verb  we 
must  all  conjugate  at  present,  and  I  confess  to  more 
and  more  impatience  as  the  days  go  on.  Be  good  as 
you  have  been  and  write  me  often." 

"  Good,  dear  soul,"  Ballantyne  thought,  as  he 
folded  the  letter,  wrote  the  last  words  of  his  own,  and 
then  paced  up  and  down  silently,  thinking  thoughts 
that  for  any  possible  fulfilment  must  bide  their  time. 

"  It  seems  ungracious  to  regret  Boston  when  New 
York  has  so  much  that  one  can  care  for,"  Percival 


246  B  A  L  L  A  N  T  Y  N  E 

said,  as  they  sat  on  the  deck  of  the  Fall  River  boat 
on  Monday  night.  "  But  I  am  finding  it  hard  to 
leave.  The  Philistine  is  there,  but  the  city  has  a 
different  atmosphere." 

"  How  can  it  help  it  ?  "  Ballantyne  said.  u  If  you 
believe  in  the  transmission  of  general  as  well  as  par 
ticular  characteristics,  you  would  think  with  me  that 
the  type  of  men  who  founded  it,  and  the  lives  of 
their  noblest  successors,  are  ingrained  in  the  substance 
of  the  very  ground  itself  on  which  one  walks.  New 
York  from  the  beginning  was  a  trading-post,  Boston 
a  spiritual  centre,  and  each  is  true  to  the  original 
spirit,  though  I  am  bound  to  admit  the  Puritan  was 
at  least  thrifty." 

"  No  disrespect  to  the  Dutch,"  said  Percival,  with 
a  laugh.  "  You  will  never  find  a  better  Puritan  than 
John  of  Barneveld  and  his  order.  Without  them  the 
Pilgrims  would  have  fared  badly." 

"  Granted,  but  the  scholarly  element  stayed  at 
home,  while  before  the  tree-stumps  were  brown 
in  her  fields  the  Plymouth  colony  had  founded 
Harvard.  But  I  am  going  with  an  open  mind  to 
this  New  World  Maelstrom,  though  I  confess  to 
distinct  desire  to  make  Boston  headquarters  for  my 
American  life." 

u  Then  you  do  not  propose  to  renounce  England 
altogether  ?  " 

"  Altogether  as  fixed  home,  but  never  as  dear  and 
familiar  ground,  to  which  I  must  often  return.  No 
American,  I  am  sure,  can  dispense  with  the  influences 


BALLANTYNE  24? 

at  work  there,  and  each  can  help  the  other  to  larger 
thought  and  more  efficient  work." 

"  There  is  materialism  to  be  fought  in  both,"  Per- 
cival  said.  "  I  do  not  know  how  it  seems  to  you, 
but  on  this  side  I  find  such  an  amazing  quality  of 
recklessness  about  it  all ;  a  kind  of  mad  scramble  in 
pleasure  as  well  as  in  the  mere  money  getting.  One 
is  swamped  at  once,  and  loses  sight  of  real  aims 
almost  unconsciously.  I  am  glad  that  I  go  into  it 
occasionally  only,  and  that  the  real  life  i-s  away  from 
it  all.  You  will  see." 

He  smiled,  but  said  no  more.  A  tacit  agreement 
seemed  to  have  been  made  that  all  discussion  of 
methods  or  ideas  should  be  waived  till  Ballantyne 
had  seen  and  judged  for  himself,  and  the  talk  passed 
to  other  topics. 

"  If  money  is  king,  dirt  is  prime  minister,"  Ballan 
tyne  said  next  morning,  as  they  made  their  disgusted 
way  through  mud  and  garbage  and  all  the  accompani 
ments  of  streets  fouler  than  any  civilized  city  has  to 
show,  Waring  and  purification  being  still  of  the  future. 
"  It  is  simply  inconceivable  that  such  a  state  of  things 
is  allowed." 

"Nothing  is  inconceivable  in  such  directions,  I 
find,"  said  Percival.  "You  submit  here  easily  to 
impositions  that  no  British  mind  would  tolerate  a 
moment.  This  is  no  worse  than  usual;  perhaps  even 
better." 

Ballantyne  fell  into  astonished  silence,  examining 
docks,  pavements,  ash-barrels,  packing-boxes,  and  the 


248  BALLANTYNE 

other  claimants  for  sidewalk  space,  following  Percival 
as  he  hurried  through  one  or  two  errands,  and  then 
again  made  his  way  toward  the  Jersey  ferry. 

"  Eminently  nasty,  and  now  we  are  free  of  it  till 
next  time,"  the  latter  said,  with  a  long  breath.  "  The 
river  is  the  sole  compensation  till  you  get  to  our  hill ; 
only  nine  hundred  feet,  to  be  sure,  but  high  enough 
and  steep  enough  to  let  us  roll  stones  down  on  our 
enemies  if  they  come  too  near.  To  get  there  is  a 
slow  piece  of  work,  for  you  must  first  take  a  cable 
road,  and  quite  a  walk  lies  beyond.  All  this  you  see 
is  in  the  nature  of  moat  and  drawbridge,  and  cuts  us 
off  from  miscellaneous  society.  As  it  is,  we  get  more 
than  is  desirable." 

"  It  should  be  very  good  to  compensate  for  such 
approach,"  Ballantyne  said,  eying  the  dingy  houses, 
the  saloons  on  every  corner,  the  slouching  men,  the 
unkempt  women,  and  dirty  children  at  every  turn, 
and  the  car  floor  filled  with  market-baskets,  the 
property  of  fat  German  women  on  their  way  from 
Washington  Market. 

"  Bad,  is  n't  it  ?  "  Percival  said,  with  a  grimace. 
"But  something  odd  is  always  happening,  and  one 
gets  queer  side-lights  on  things  in  just  such  talk  as 
this." 

"  But  it  is  not  American.  It  is  German  and 
Chinese." 

"That  is  American,  as  you  find  it  on  a  Jersey 
ferry-boat  or  a  suburban  car." 

Ballantyne  laughed,  and  said  no  more  till  they  had 


BALLANTYNE  249 

left  the  car  and  walked  for  some  distance.  A  sharp 
turn  and  houses  were  behind  them,  and  they  had 
before  them  gently  rising  ground,  the  heights  beyond, 
and  the  tender  green  of  freshest  spring  in  leaf  and 
bud.  The  change  was  magical,  and  Ballantyne, 
always  depressed  by  squalor,  felt  his  spirits  rising. 

"  Purgatory  is  behind,"  said  Percival.  "  When 
you  see  it  again,  you  will  look  down  on  it  in  the 
mass,  but  escape  all  the  unsavory  detail.  The  rest 
of  the  way  is  peace." 


Chapter    Sixth 


THE   New   Yorker,  driven   by  high   rents 
into  Jersey  suburbs,  passes  through  the 
terrors  of  West  Street,  and  the  no  less 
aggressive  squalor  and  sordidness  of  the 
opposite  shore,  to  such  village  as  he  has  chosen  for 
what  remains  of  his  twenty-four  hours,  with   small 
thought  of  what  lies  beyond  the  beaten  track  on  each 
side  of  the  rival  railroads  that  parcel  out  the  old  State. 
Back  of  the  Palisades  are  quaint  villages,  not  always 
beyond   adventurous   picnickers,  but   some,   at   least, 
seldom  reached ;  and  beyond  them  and  the  stretch  of 
heights  lie  the  great  marshes,  with  the  smell  of  the 
sea,   and    the   sweep    of   free   wind,   and   a   coloring 
changing  with  the  changing  seasons. 

Once  known,  the  artist  whose  eyes  have  rested  on 
them  needs  Holland  no  longer,  but  finds  to  his  hand 
tints  of  sky  and  cloud,  and  shifting  lights  and  shadows 
on  waving  reeds  and  grass,  that  no  man's  palette,  labor 
as  he  may,  can  ever  render  in  full.  Here  and  there 
one  in  the  vanished  generations  of  early  settlers  had 
found  what  hint  of  home  lay  across  the  river,  and 
built  for  himself  and  his  heirs  the  hip-roofed,  wide- 
spreading  Dutch  houses,  set  deep  in  orchards  and  nut- 


BALLANTYNE  251 

trees,  with  wealth  of  meadow  for  pasture,  and  rich 
corn  land  rolling  away  on  either  side. 

Such  a  nook,  perverted  later  from  its  original  inten 
tion,  Morris  had  found,  and  the  perversion  made  it 
but  the  better  for  his  purpose.  A  stray  speculator, 
of  tendencies  too  aesthetic  for  his  own  good,  had,  in 
one  of  his  tours  of  discovery,  come  upon  the  house, 
and  settled  within  himself  that  here  might  prosper 
a  quiet  and  exclusive  summer  hotel,  chiefly  on  the 
cottage  plan.  The  old  offices  at  the  back  of  the 
dwelling,  built  for  the  slaves  and  used  later  for  general 
farm  laborers,  were  in  fair  preservation,  and  could 
easily  be  restored  for  all  kitchen  and  baser  uses.  The 
heirs  had  preferred  Newport  and  Saratoga  for  their 
summer  fields,  and  had  no  taste  for  the  seclusion 
involved  in  such  life  as  could  be  had  nearer  home, 
and  thus  bargaining  was  easy. 

The  delighted  purchaser  ran  up  a  number  of 
summer  cottages  as  adjuncts  to  his  prospective  hotel, 
and  proceeded  to  advertise  its  claims,  nor  did  he  lose 
courage  till  three  successive  seasons  of  failure  to 
secure  more  than  a  dozen  people  convinced  him  that 
his  scheme  must  lapse.  For  the  ordinary  business 
man  it  was  too  inaccessible ;  for  the  rich,  the 
approaches  were  too  uncomfortable  and  depressing. 
And  at  last  the  houses  stood  empty,  or  knew  only  an 
occasional  and  discontented  tenant,  till  the  day  when 
Morris,  deeply  disgusted  with  what  he  called  u  the 
rampant  civilization  of  the  Oranges,"  chanced  upon 
it,  and  knew  it  for  his  own. 


252 


BALLANTYNE 


All  this  was  told  at  length  with  the  enthusiastic 
flow  of  words  inseparable  from  any  thought  of 
Morris,  and  Ballantyne  confessed  that  nothing  could 
well  be  better.  In  the  old  mansion  itself,  its  discov 
erer  jubilantly  declared,  not  a  modern  convenience 
remained,  since  his  first  care  had  been  to  do  away 
with  every  pipe  and  plug,  and  allow  nothing  more 
modern  than  the  hydraulic  ram  that  gave  them  their 
supply  of  water. 

u  He  would  have  preferred  Etruscan  jars  or  a  yoke 
with  pails,"  Percival  said ;  "  but  luckily  the  feminine 
element  knew  better." 

"  You  mean  they  had  none  of  them  fit  sinew  for  a 
business  that  their  betters  never  scorned,"  returned 
Morris.  "  Think  on  those  Capri  women ;  tall  and 
lithe,  and  the  great  jars  poised  on  their  heads,  losing 
never  a  drop  as  they  climb  the  stairs.  Chop  up  your 
sewing-machines  and  set  your  girls  water-bearing, 
and  you  will  get  a  different  type  from  the  slab-sided 
scrawnies  America  turns  out." 

"  Talk  it  over  with  Miss  Byers,"  Percival  said. 
"  That 's  her  department,  not  yours ;  "  and  with  an 
other  volley  of  words  Morris  retreated  to  his  study 
and  shut  the  door. 

A  week  had  passed  since  their  arrival,  and  with 
every  hour  Ballantyne's  interest  had  grown.  In  the 
main  house  was  the  housekeeper,  Miss  Byers,  a  quiet 
Quaker  of  modified  tendencies,  in  whose  gentle  black 
eyes  were  now  and  then  glints  of  a  humor  that  bore 
evidence  to  comprehension,  in  some  degree  at  least, 


BALLANTYNE  253 

of  the  new  and  often  astounding  elements  about  her. 
With  her  had  come  a  stout  and  comfortable  colored 
cook,  with  the  genius  of  her  race  for  savory  prepara 
tion  of  food,  and  with  full  willingness  to  allow  the  ex 
periments  in  the  Italian  dishes  demanded  by  Morris. 
Both  were  supplemented  by  the  unbounded  and  vocif 
erous  good  will  of  German  Marie,  whose  English 
was  of  her  own  arrangement,  and  who  preferred 
German  wherever  it  could  be  used.  Even  such 
service  was  a  concession  on  the  part  of  Morris,  who 
looked  forward  to  a  time  when,  save  for  the  cook, 
whose  necessity  he  admitted,  all  work  should  be  done 
by  the  members  of  the  household. 

Ballantyne  observed,  as  days  went  on,  that  what 
ever  theory  might  be,  in  his  own  case  no  finger  was 
lifted  to  give  them  outlet  in  practice.  In  his  own 
way,  however,  Morris  was  an  indefatigable  worker. 
His  library  in  all  tongues,  and  of  several  thousand 
volumes,  chosen  for  contents  and  not  for  covers, 
as  he  took  pains  to  announce,  overflowed  the 
great  room  he  used  as  study,  and  lined  one  side 
also  of  his  bedroom  walls,  the  low-studded  room 
above. 

Percival's  opened  from  his  through  a  passage  with 
doors  at  each  end,  which  could  at  will  shut  them  off 
completely.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  broad  hall, 
with  its  half  doors  at  each  end,  was  the  general  sit 
ting-room,  at  present  rather  bare  and  unattractive. 
Regnault  and  young  Pierson,  a  lad  of  eighteen  in 
Morris's  charge,  had  the  rooms  above,  and  the  re- 


254  BALLANTYNE 

mainder  were  given  over  to  Miss  Byers  and  an 
invalid  sister  who  was  never  seen. 

This  for  the  main  house.  The  cottages,  Ballan- 
tyne  soon  found,  had  a  life  no  less  marked,  but  for  the 
most  part  distinct  from  their  own.  In  the  central 
one  the  steady  beat  of  a  steam-engine  had  seemed  to 
imply  manufacturing  of  some  order,  till  Percival  ex 
plained  that  one  of  the  colony,  a  Dr.  Prescott,  had 
come  to  them  from  California,  bringing  his  theories 
with  him,  and  not  only  theories,  but  patients  enough 
to  fill  four  of  the  cottages.  In  the  central  one,  re 
served  for  himself,  he  had  set  up  his  machines,  his 
avowed  object  being  to  exercise  the  internal  body  by 
reversion  and  the  external  by  percussion.  Stand  a 
patient  on  his  or  her  head,  as  nearly  and  for  as  long 
as  the  case  admitted,  and  naturally  the  internal  or 
gans  found  new  arrangements,  and  must  of  necessity 
develop  certain  new  tendencies  and  capacities. 

This  was  the  first  process,  and  having  accomplished 
this,  the  percussors,  driven  by  steam  at  a  rate  of  from 
one  to  three  hundred  strokes  a  minute,  naturally 
brought  about  reaction  and  balanced  matters.  Si 
lence  so  many  hours  a  day,  diet  elaborately  simple 
and  adapted  to  each  individual  case,  and,  last,  the  in 
corporation  of  the  Jaeger  system  at  its  fullest,  made 
a  bill  so  attractive,  that  a  series  of  invalids,  weary  of 
water  cure  and  even  Christian  Science  and  its  varia 
tions,  had  flocked  to  him  and  remained. 

There  could  be  no  doubt  that  the  amazing  pictur- 
esqueness  of  the  new  prophet  himself  had  much  to 


\ 
BALLANTYNE  255 

do  with  the  brilliancy  of  his  successes.  A  Western 
wildness,  as  of  the  Plains  moderately  modified,  hung 
about  him,  accented  by  his  flowing  hair  and  beard  of 
richest  russet,  and  eyes  but  a  shade  darker,  the  soft 
browns  and  creams  of  his  Jaeger  garments  creating 
the  u  nocturne  in  brown,"  which  Percival  had  named 
him.  His  voice  was  a  low,  soft  drawl,  half  Southern, 
half  Western,  in  its  inflections,  and  another  element 
of  his  charm. 

Power  was  unquestionably  there,  of  its  own  sort, 
and  absolute  fascination  for  his  patients,  who  were, 
to  Ballantyne's  surprise,  chiefly  men,  with  a  sprink 
ling  of  elderly  maidens.  A  brother,  a  lesser  dupli 
cate  of  himself  and  a  medical  student,  acted  as 
assistant,  and  besides  housekeeper,  he  had  a  corps 
of  nurses  and  attendants  for  special  cases.  He  and 
his  immediate  family  had  meals  in  the  main  house, 
the  order  of  treatment  obliging  most  of  his  patients 
to  eat  alone. 

It  was  at  once  evident  to  Ballantyne  that  Prescott 
was,  quite  unconsciously  to  Percival,  profoundly  jeal 
ous  both  of  him  and  of  Regnault,  while  the  latter,  in 
turn,  looked  with  dark  suspicion  on  every  other  can 
didate  for  Morris's  favor.  Life  was,  however,  so 
arranged  that  little  opportunity  remained  for  indul 
gence  in  these  sentiments.  A  class  in  New  York  to 
which  he  went  three  times  a  week,  on  alternate 
days,  with  Morris  and  Percival,  had  been  arranged  for 
him  at  once  by  Morris,  whose  influence  seemed  able 
to  bring  about  what  he  would,  and  between  times  he 


256  BALLANTYNE 

had  as  occupation  a  translation  into  French  of  a  vol 
ume  of  essays  by  an  obscure  but  powerful  thinker, 
whose  thought  had  struck  Morris  and  suggested  the 
task. 

What  he  willed,  Regnault  did.  His  fiery  blue  eyes 
softened  as  they  rested  on  his  master.  "  Man  Mai- 
tre;  cher  Mditre"  he  called  him  always,  and  flew  to 
his  arms  as  they  met  in  the  morning,  with  a  fervor 
that  never  failed.  They  chatted  together  in  his  own 
tongue,  and  so  far  as  he  was  able  Regnault  absorbed 
him  with  a  passion  which  carried  always  in  itself  the 
seeds  of  its  destruction. 

Nothing  but  Percival's  gentle  good  will  and  unself 
ishness  prevented  daily  explosions.  They  had  nearly 
come  at  moments,  for  Regnault  looked  with  fury  on 
any  familiarity  on  the  part  of  Dr.  Prescott,  but  thus 
far  had  been  easily  shamed  and  silenced. 

From  the  beginning  there  had  been  no  jealousy 
of  Ballantyne.  Whether  he  divined  that  infatuation 
from  this  source  was  not  to  be  dreaded,  he  did  not 
say,  but  he  turned  to  him  with  an  impulse  of  con 
fidence,  and  had  at  once  given  his  opinion  of  Dr. 
Prescott,  with  the  r  rolled  to  a  degree  of  ferocity 
next  door  to  malediction.  The  look  that  came  at 
times  as  he  watched  the  lithe  and  sinuous  healer  was 
so  nearly  murderous,  that  Miss  Byers  eyed  her  carv 
ing-knife  timorously,  and  furtively  slid  it  under  the 
edge  of  the  platter,  Marie,  who  shared  his  antipathy, 
in  the  meantime  nodding  approvingly. 

The  cottages  focussed   all  interest  on   the  party  in 


BALLANTYNE  257 

the  main  house.  Regnault  gave  lessons  to  the  few 
who  were  allowed  any  intellectual  effort,  and  to  the 
'maidens  who  were  not,  but  who  could  still  listen, 
declaimed  De  Musset  as  he  had  done  on  shipboard. 
A  gay  Western  widow,  but  slightly  older,  it  seemed, 
than  her  daughters,  flirted  indiscriminately  wherever 
an  opening  occurred;  and  another  of  the  pensive  type, 
a  brown-eyed  and  gracious  little  German,  studied 
Greek  under  Morris's  direction,  and  announced  daily 
at  dinner  how  far  she  had  progressed  in  "  Blaydo," 
whose  "  Republic  "  she  had  daringly  chosen  as  her 
battle  ground  with  the  language. 

At  each  meal  Morris  read  an  extract  from  some 
favorite  author,  to  lift  the  act,  as  he  said,  above  mere 
feeding,  and  often  suggested  a  reading-stand  in  the 
background,  and  the  old  monastic  fashion  of  reading 
through  the  entire  meal.  As  Ballantyne  studied  him,  he 
concluded  that  a  certain  instinct  of  self-preservation 
underlay  the  proposition,  the  animal  in  this  curious 
nature  coming  uppermost  in  feeding,  so  that  no  gloss 
of  acquired  breeding,  or  his  real  mental  quality,  suf 
ficed  to  hide  the  rage  that  came  upon  him.  The 
veins  in  his  forehead  swelled.  The  favorite  dish, 
eyed  greedily  even  when  his  plate  had  been  piled 
high  with  it,  was  sent  almost  en  masse  down  his  throat, 
and  for  the  first  ten  minutes  of  devouring,  silence 
ruled.  Then  he  calmed,  looked  about,  and  was 
ready  for  talk  till  dessert  and  coffee  ended  possibility 
of  further  speech,  and  he  went  heavily  to  the  long 
sleep  which  he  took  daily,  and  which  undoubtedly 

17 


258  BALLANTYNE 

kept  his  late  hours  of  severe  study  from  wearing  upon 
him.  With  waking  came  the  long  walk,  in  which 
Regnault,  in  spite  of  the  Frenchman's  natural  abhor 
rence  of  physical  exercise,  shared  when  he  could,  and 
in  which  all  were  urged  to  join. 

Supper  waited  their  late  return,  and  discussions 
always  arising,  and  always  of  a  deeply  combative 
nature,  transferred  themselves  to  the  study,  and  went 
on  with  an  energy  and  vigor  inexhaustible  as  the  man 
himself.  Guests  of  all  orders  came  and  went,  all 
thinkers,  all  in  sympathy  with  some  phase  of  this 
abounding  thought ;  and  the  life,  nominally  isolated, 
was  filled  to  the  brim  with  interests. 

Free  entrance  to  one  or  two  popular  clubs  and  an 
unending  list  of  dinner  invitations  gave  the  added 
flavor  of  the  world  from  which  he  had  retreated, 
but  to  which  he  went  with  no  less  relish  than  he 
returned,  and  now  Ballantyne  and  Percival  accom 
panied  him,  both  eagerly  sought,  and  knowing  that 
June  would  see  the  exodus  of  most  of  their  hosts. 

Into  this  life,  made  up  of  as  complex  elements  as 
could  well  have  been  brought  together,  came  at  the 
appointed  time  young  Norton,  whose  deep  eyes  and 
lazy  grace  and  sweetness  made  him  adored  by  the 
entire  colony.  Ballantyne  they  worshipped  at  a  dis 
tance.  He  was  too  indifferent,  they  had  decided, 
too  English  to  really  belong  to  them ;  but  here  was 
a  product  more  comprehensible,  whose  praises  could 
never  be  too  loudly  sung.  Fascinated  by  the  freedom 
of  the  life,  he  fraternized  with  all  in  turn,  took 


BALLANTYNE  259 

up  his  own  tasks,  studied  with  Morris,  and  read 
French  poetry  and  drama  with  Regnault,  whose  soul 
was  torn  by  alternate  jealousy  and  adoration ;  and  so 
summer  came  in,  and  the  weeks  flew  by,  return  to 
Boston  for  any  stay  seeming  less  and  less  probable. 

Ballantyne  had  spent  part  of  June  in  the  city,  study 
ing  New  York  byways  and  slums.  He  had  visited 
also  the  Socialist  clubs  and  various  organizations  under 
their  control,  finding  the  members,  with  here  and  there 
an  exception,  of  an  order  much  below  the  English 
Socialists ;  and,  indifferent  to  further  knowledge  of 
them,  gave  himself  to  small  excursions  into  the  sur 
rounding  towns,  returning  gladly  to  the  Heights. 

So  far  as  interior  feeling  went,  his  judgment  of 
Morris  had  not  altered,  but  he  reproached  himself  for 
faithlessness  as  he  saw  the  man's  readiness  to  share 
his  gifts,  and  his  generous  bestowal  of  time  and 
trouble  where  any  phase  of  teaching  was  involved. 
He  seemed  willing  to  give  himself  impartially  to  all, 
often  at  the  cost  of  his  own  time  and  pleasure,  and  in 
the  species  of  service  which  he  had  adopted  for  Sun 
day  mornings  struck  often  a  note  so  fine  that  preju 
dice  vanished,  and  only  the  high  thought  at  its  best 
and  noblest  showed  its  face.  Regnault's  violin  added 
its  charms,  for  he  played  with  feeling  and  spirit,  and 
now  Norton's  beautiful  voice  became  a  part  of  the 
hour,  and  drew  tears  of  sensibility  from  little  Frau 
Bergmann,  whose  knowledge  of  u  Blaydo "  was  in 
inverse  ratio  to  her  application. 

One  fact  was  very  noticeable,  and   now  and  then 


260  BALLANTYNE 

Ballantyne  pondered  its  significance.  Morris,  whether 
intentionally  or  otherwise  he  could  not  tell,  avoided 
being  alone  with  him,  and  their  talks  were  always 
general  ones.  If  any  end  were  to  be  accomplished, 
it  was  plain  that  he  relied  on  Percival's  influence  to 
bring  it  about,  and  till  Norton's  coming,  he  bestowed 
attention  impartially  on  all. 

"There  is  one  objection  which  I  am  just  beginning 
to  see,"  said  Percival  one  evening,  as  he  paced  up  and 
down  the  old  road  in  front  with  Ballantyne.  A  close 
friendship  had  developed  between  the  two,  and  more 
and  more  Percival  turned  to  him  for  talk  on  the 
problems  of  life  and  thought  that  absorbed  him. 

"  Well,"  Ballantyne  said,  looking  off  to  the  twink 
ling  lights  far  below,  and  baring  his  forehead  to  the 
light  breeze  that  blew  from  the  west,  u  we  can 
meet  it,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  I  doubt  it.  Does  it  ever  occur  to  you  that  the 
commonplace  has  its  own  distinct  uses,  and  is  as 
necessary  as  grass  in  nature,  for  instance  ?  Here  we 
are,  a  colony  of  sharply  defined  individualities,  brought 
into  closest  contact,  whereas  naturally  each  would,  by 
itself,  have  its  own  family  background  as  cushion  for 
its  angles,  and  its  peculiarities  would  be  diffused  and 
dispersed  like  superfluous  electricity." 

"  Then  you  begin  to  doubt  the  plan,"  Ballantyne 
said. 

"  Not  I,  save  at  one  point.  What  could  possibly 
hold  more  stimulus  or  better  chance  for  real  progress 
in  our  special  fields  ?  I  was  only  thinking  of  the 


BALLANTYNE  261 

tribe  marshalled  by  Dr.  Prescott,  and  a  little  weary  of 
the  endless  fencing  that  goes  on.  But  Morris  never 
minds.  Why  should  I  ?  " 

"  Morris's  appetite  for  sweet  stuff  is  larger  than 
yours,"  Ballantyne  answered.  u  A  row  of  adoring 
women  stimulates  him  to  the  utmost.  He  sat  among 
seven  this  morrring  expounding  ^Eschylus,  and  the 
little  Bergmann  wept  for  joy." 

Percival  laughed. 

"  Morris  understands  them,"  he  said.  "  He  can't 
be  touched.  His  susceptibility  lies  in  another  direc 
tion."  He  hesitated,  then  went  on.  "  Regnault  gets 
more  unmanageable  every  day.  You  may  have  no 
ticed  it." 

"  When  does  Norton  leave  ?  "  Ballantyne  asked, 
after  a  little  silence. 

"  He  does  n't  leave.  That  is  the  difficulty.  I 
have  had  a  passionate  scene  with  Regnault  this 
afternoon,  and  pitied  him  thoroughly.  He  says 
that  Morris  is  swallowed  up  by  Norton,  and 
I  have  to  admit  myself  that  there  is  a  sort  of  in 
fatuation  about  it.  I  have  never  seen  Morris  so 
deeply  moved." 

"  Then  he  has  these  sudden  passions  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  so ;  yes,"  Percival  said,  reluctantly. 
"That  is,  I  have  been  told  so." 

"  Then  you  have  never  observed  until  now  ?  " 

"  No ;  for  I  only  knew  him  really  in  Italy.  My 
cousin  had  recommended  him  as  coach.  He  had  met 
him  in  Capri,  where  he  had  an  old  house  and  all  his 


262  BALLANTYNE 

books,  and  I  caught  at  the  idea,  for  I  wanted  Italian. 
I  had  two  months  with  him  in  Capri,  and  he  was  my 
friend  from  the  first  moment.  Then  we  had  a  winter 
in  Rome,  —  an  amazing  winter,  for  he  knew  everybody 
and  went  everywhere ;  and  then  I  went  home,  and  he 
followed  and  was  in  London  for  a  few  weeks,  busy 
with  the  society  of  which  I  have  told  you.  Then 
he  came  over  here  for  a  year  and  more,  and  at  last 
returned  for  me.  I  could  not  refuse  him,  and  here 
I  am." 

"  And  that  is  all  you  know  of  him  ?  " 

"  All  I  need  to  know,  is  it  not  ?  I  like  his  way  of 
taking  men  for  what  they  represent,  and  asking  no 
questions.  A  man  is  always  actually  what  you  find 
him,  for  he  must  always  be  the  product  of  what  has 
gone  before.  If  that  be  good  and  efficient,  I  see 
no  slightest  need  of  question.  Then,  too,  so  far  as 
Morris  is  concerned,  he  spills  out  his  whole  life  with 
entire  recklessness.  You  must  have  noted  that." 

u  To  you,  perhaps.      I  have  never  heard  him." 

u  Then  it  is  because  your  guard  is  still  up.  He 
says  that,  warmly  as  he  likes  you,  you  never  let  him 
come  near.  You  will  never  know  his  best,  Ballan- 
tyne,  till  you  do." 

u  Per-cee-val,  Per-cee-val  !  "  Regnault's  voice 
sounded  from  the  piaza,  a  note  of  entreaty  in  it, 
and  he  broke  away  with  a  hurried  — 

"  Let  me  see  you  again  to-night,  Ballantyne. 
There  is  more  I  want  to  say.  I  have  something 
to  tell  you." 


Chapter    Seventh 


STILL  pacing  up  and  down   under  the  long 
line    of   chestnut-trees,   Ballantyne    looked 
about  at  the  lighted  cottages,  the  soft  gleam 
from  Chinese  lanterns  hung  on  piazzas  or 
here  and  there  among  the  trees,  and  the  friendly  sense 
of  companionship  in  the  old  house,  dark  in  the  shadow, 
with    its    one  point   of  brilliant   light    shining    from 
Morris's  study. 

The  crashing  chords  of  the  Pilgrim  Chorus  from 
Tannhauser  came  from  Frau  Bergmann's  piano,  a 
recent  importation,  and,  to  guard  all  students,  only 
allowed  in  the  evening.  It  passed  into  the  bridal 
song  in  Lohengrin,  and  as  he  listened,  again  his  heart 
was  full  of  longing. 

Incredible  as  he  would  have  thought  it  three  months 
before,  more  than  once  of  late  he  had  said  to  himself 
that  here  was  a  spot  for  which  Marion  might  come  to 
care,  and  as  he  wrote  of  it  to  Miss  Ryde  he  had, 
half  unconsciously  to  himself,  given  only  its  most  at 
tractive  aspects.  That  he  still  questioned  Morris  as 
a  man  made  little  difference.  There  seemed  no  doubt 
that  his  motives  were  pure,  and  in  any  case  this  life 
of  student  and  thinker  was  in  itself  a  filter  in  which 


264  BALLANTYNE 

any  temperamental  baseness  must  naturally  go  to  the 
bottom. 

For  himself  Boston  was  his  choice,  but  after  all 
did  it  not  sum  up  chiefly  in  the  old  house  in  the 
Square  ?  It  was  people  rather  than  places  that  made 
real  living,  and  again,  as  he  thought  this,  he  fell  into 
fresh  study  of  the  strange  elements  about  him,  It 
was  Percival  in  whom  was  embodied  the  best  of  life 
here,  but  Percival's  faith  in  it  compelled  the  taking 
for  granted  of  the  whole.  Miss  Byers  represented 
something  no  less  to  be  trusted,  her  simple  integrity 
and  sound  judgment  being  the  unseen  mainspring  of 
the  practical  workings  of  the  scheme.  Why,  then, 
should  it  not  extend,  draw  in  more  and  more  of  like 
mind,  and  be  in  the  end  what  its  head  claimed  it 

must  be  ? 

This  had  been  his  attitude  till  within  a  few  days, 
when  Morris's  increasing  oblivion  to  everything  save 
Norton  had  opened  up  a  new  phase  of  this  perma 
nent  puzzle,  and  distracted  the  coterie  of  worshippers 
beyond  bearing.  Frau  Bergmann  dropped  sentiment 
and  wept  tears  of  rage  and  spite  as  she  carried  her 
plaint  from  one  to  another,  and  Ballantyne,  who  in 
his  interest  had  nearly  ceased  to  criticise,  found  all 
his  old  objections  once  more  aroused  and  vigorous. 
He  smiled  as  he  reflected  on  certain  absurdities  of  his 

position. 

"  To  settle  down  permanently  with  a  Welshman, 
an  Englishman,  and  a  Frenchman  is  American  life 
from  one  point  of  view,  but  not  precisely  what  I 


BALLANTYNE  265 

came  for,"  he  thought,  and  he  recalled  now  the  com 
ment  of  a  New  York  guest  made  but  yesterday.  He 
had  come  for  a  day  merely  to  look  on,  and  had  no 
special  interest  in  the  plan  or  in  Morris,  a  shrewd 
observer,  and  a  man  who  had  watched  the  rise  and  fall 
of  many  communities. 

"  You  seem  to  have  only  young  men  about  you," 
he  had  said.  "  Young  men  and  a  good  many  women. 
Where  are  the  elders  ?  " 

Morris  had  colored  furiously  as  he  replied  : 

"  There  is  no  faith  in  middle-aged  blood.  Youth 
alone  can  meet  the  coming  need." 

The  visitor  smiled,  and  as  he  afterward  walked 
with  Ballantyne  to  the  cars,  said,  with  a  final  look 
behind  him  : 

"  An  extraordinary  man,  but  the  real  reason  he  has 
chiefly  boys  about  him  is  because  only  ardent  boys 
swallow  such  dogmatism  without  question.  I  have 
had  my  eye  on  Morris  for  several  years  in  one  place 
and  another,  and  he  will  not  bear  an  instant's  contra 
diction.  Then,  too,  his  thought  is  endlessly  shifting. 
Each  year  has  a  new  passion,  though  this,  I  confess, 
means  more  and  looks  more  lasting.  Do  you  take 
stock  in  it  ?  " 

"  In  many  ways,  yes,"  Ballantyne  answered,  feel 
ing  that  in  his  position  as  nominal  guest  of  Morris 
he  had  no  right  to  criticise;  and  his  questioner,  with 
a  laugh,  said,  as  he  shook  hands  : 

"  Keep  such  faith  as  you  can,  but  I  shall  not  find 
you  here  next  year,  I  am  certain." 


266  BALLANTYNE 

Of  all  this  Ballantyne  thought  as  he  walked.  A 
certain  inertia  had  come  upon  him,  born  in  part,  it 
might  be,  of  climate,  since  July  heats  had  come,  and 
a  long  drouth  in  which  every  green  thing  scorched 
and  shrivelled.  Dust  lay  thick  on  the  chestnuts,  and 
the  gnarled  branches  of  the  apple  orchard  showed 
gray  as  olive-trees  under  the  intense,  unclouded  blue. 

More  than  once  he  had  decided  to  break  away  and 
seek  some  cooler  spot,  and  in  pity  for  Regnault  had 
sugggested  their  going  together  to  Bar  Harbor  for 
a  week  or  two.  But  the  latter  clung  to  Morris  with 
a  tenacity  which  the  latter  had  evidently  begun  to 
resent,  though  he  still  sought  to  soothe  him  and  pre 
vent  the  outbreaks  which  only  Percival  had  power  to 
quiet. 

A  special  case  had  lately  absorbed  Dr.  Prescott, 
and  thus  prevented  other  complications,  but  a  latent 
sneer  in  his  look  came  oftener  to  the  surface  as  he 
watched  the  undisguised  conflict  of  stormy  feeling  in 
Regnault's  face. 

The  cottages  were  filled  to  overflowing,  the  later 
additions  chiefly  members  of  Morris's  winter  classes 
in  town,  or  drawn  there  by  reports  of  what  might  be 
found,  —  an  extraordinary  mixture  of  society  people, 
profoundly  puzzled  by  the  elements  about  them,  yet 
certain  that  one  or  two,  at  least,  were  as  utterly  good 
form  as  even  the  Four  Hundred  could  demand. 

Types  enough  to  illustrate  any  theory  chosen  were 
at  hand,  and  each  one  seemed  bent  upon  impressing 
itself  on  Ballantyne,  whose  calm  indifference  acted 


BALLANTYNE  267 

only  as  provocative  to  furthur  effort.  Absolute  in 
fatuation  for  Morris  summed  up  the  situation  for 
certainly  a  dozen  of  the  women  who  sat  at  his  feet, 
but  to  this,  beyond  the  daily  expounding,  he  paid 
small  heed,  though  any  diminution  would  clearly 
have  made  itself  felt.  All  his  thought  for  the  time 
being  concentrated  on  Norton,  from  whom  he  had 
extracted  a  promise  to  remain,  and  who  yielded 
reluctantly  as  if  to  a  power  beyond  his  own  control. 
He  had  never  shared  the  passion  of  feeling  that 
moved  the  older  man.  It  was  in  this  that  his  power 
lay,  and  might  even  continue  to  bind  long  after  earlier 
favorites  had  been  laid  on  the  shelf. 

"  It  is  all  unwholesome  and  abnormal,"  Ballantyne 
thought,  as  he  recalled  Morris's  look  of  devotion 
when  Norton  came  near.  u  Presently  there  will  be 
spontaneous  combustion,  and  the  whole  thing  vanish 
in  smoke." 

Percival's  quick  step  drew  near  as  he  turned,  and 
he  saw,  as  the  light  from  a  street  lamp  fell  upon  his 
face,  that  he  was  pale  and  excited. 

"  Ballantyne,"  he  said,  "  I  am  at  the  very  end  of 
my  resources.  Regnault  has  threatened  suicide,  and 
while  I  doubt  his  actually  attempting  it,  he  is  in  a 
frightful  state.  If  he  were  a  woman,  one  might 
comprehend.  He  behaves  as  I  suppose  wild  women 
do  when  they  are  deserted.  What  can  be  done  ?  " 

"  Call  in  Morris  himself.  It  is  his  business  to 
make  explanations  or  whatever  else  is  needed." 

"  If  he  could  j  but  there  are  none,  Ballantyne,  save 


268'  BALLANTYNE 

in  the  fact  that  he  has  exhausted  anything  that  Reg- 
nault  had  for  him,  and  has  not  even  toleration  left. 
That  phase  of  him  is  all  new  to  me,  though  I  was 
warned.  They  said  he  sucked  his  oranges  and  threw 
away  the  skins ;  but  I  did  not  believe  it,  nor  can  I 
fully  now,  for  I  find  him  loyal  yet.  But  Regnault's 
wits  will  go.  Morris  sat  by  Norton's  side,  reading 
with  him,  and  Regnault  had  placed  himself  on  the 
piazza  where  he  could  watch  every  movement.  He 
was  grinding  his  teeth  with  rage  and  despair  when  I 
got  to  him,  and  I  have  put  him  to  bed  like  a  child, 
and  given  him  bromide  to  make  him  sleep.  The 
thing  is  as  bad  for  Morris  as  for  him." 

"Come  away  from  it  all,"  Ballantyne  said,  in 
sudden  disgust.  "  Let  us  go  to  Plymouth  and  Mrs. 
LeBaron.  She  is  natural  and  genuine  and  whole 
some,  and  all  that  this  thing  is  not." 

"  Don't  be  so  fierce,"  said  Percival,  with  a  groan. 
"  This  is  only  a  midsummer  madness.  It  does  not 
touch  the  real  heart  of  the  thing  at  all." 

"  No,  because  there  is  no  heart,"  Ballantyne  said, 
decisively.  "There  is  a  brain  with  a  power  that  can 
simulate  anything  for  the  time  being,  but  for  soul, 
there  is  simply  a  mass  of  passion  and  emotions, 
abnormal  in  action  and  absolutely  destructive  of 
natural  wholesome  life.  Come  with  me,  and  we  will 
take  this  unhappy  Regnault,  if  we  can." 

"  Why  not  appeal  to  Norton  ?  "  Percival  said. 
"  He  has  no  real  wish  to  stay,  for  his  friends  who 
back  him  are  impatient  at  his  delay  in  going  abroad. 


BALLANTYNE  269 

His  fancy  is  caught  and  his  pride  stirred  at  the  wild 
estimate  Morris  puts  upon  him,  but  I  have  seen  him 
shrink  from  his  fondling,  and  he  is  afraid  of  the  sort 
of  passion  that  moves  him.  Morris  has  been  in  a 
rage  with  him  to-day ;  the  sort  of  rage  he  has  told 
me  sometimes  comes  over  him,  but  I  had  never 
believed  him.  He  frightened  Norton  horribly.  I 
doubt  if  he  will  stay." 

As  he  ended  they  had  neared  the  house,  and  the 
sound  of  Morris's  voice  came  to  them  suddenly,  hoarse 
with  passion. 

"  I  cannot,  and  I  will  not,  take  things  as  you  do," 
Norton  said,  and  then  came  the  sound  of  sudden 
sobs  and  Norton's  exclamation  of  shocked  amaze 
ment.  "  For  God's  sake  be  a  man,  and  not  the  mad 
mixture  you  are  to-day,  Morris  !  " 

The  light  was  at  that  moment  extinguished ;  Nor 
ton  ran  up  the  stairs  to  his  room,  and  they  heard  the 
key  turn  in  the  study  door. 

"  The  end  has  begun,"  Ballantyne  said. 
"Whatever   it    is,  I    must   see    it    out,"    Percival 
answered.     "This  thing  shall  not  go  to  pieces  be 
cause  temporary  aberration  sets  in.     Thunder  clears 
the  air,  and  bright  shining  may  come  again." 

He  said  good  night  hurriedly  as  if  afraid  to  trust 
further  words,  and  soon  Ballantyne  followed  him. 

The  atmosphere  of  the  breakfast  table  next  morn 
ing  was  so  lurid,  that  Ballantyne,  who  had  slept  only 
troubled  sleep,  was  confirmed  in  his  determination  to 
seek  purer  air.  Regnault's  bloodshot  eyes  were  red 


270  BALLANTYNE 

with  passionate  weeping,  and  Morris  showed  tokens 
of  a  conflict  still  undecided.  Miss  Byers  looked  con 
siderately  away,  and  Marie,  who  regarded  Dr.  Prescott 
as  the  source  of  all  evil,  eyed  him  belligerently.  Perci- 
val  was  pale  and  exhausted,  and  Morris  avoided  his  eyes. 
u  An  incomprehensible  mess,"  Ballantyne  thought, 
eager  to  escape ;  but  as  he  turned  to  Morris,  meaning 
to  announce  his  intention  of  leaving  for  a  week  or 
two  at  Plymouth,  Regnault's  hand  was  on  his  arm, 
and  he  said,  low,  "  I  pray  you  come  to  me." 

He  rose  as  he  spoke  and  left  the  room,  and  Bal 
lantyne  presently  followed. 

"  See  here,  my  dear  fellow,"  he  said,  convinced 
that  further  sympathy  would  be  only  weakening,  and 
dismayed  at  rinding  that  Regnault  had  thrown  him 
self  face  down  upon  the  bed.  "Come  to  yourself. 
This  is  all  terrible  nonsense.  The  man  is  not  worth 
the  passion  you  are  spending  on  him." 

He  spoke  in  French,  for  in  excitement  Regnault 
lost  all  command  of  his  limited  English.  Now  he 
sat  up  and  took  Ballantyne's  hand,  with  a  look  of 
inexpressible  wretchedness  on  his  face. 

"  Ah,  my  friend,  you  know  not  all.  It  is  not 
alone  that  I  lose  him,  though  he  swore  our  two  souls 
were  as  one ;  but  see,  he  makes  me  to  lose  more.  He 
loves,  and  for  a  time  one  is  content,  and  adores.  Mon 
Dieu !  What  power  that  can  make  one  so  adore  ! 
Then  I  care  not  for  faith,  nor  anything  save  to  con 
tent  him,  and  I  believe  every  word — all  he  would 
have  me  do.  And  now,  both  are  gone." 


BALLANTYNE  271 

"  What  '  both '  ?  " 

u  Ah,  I  am  not  so  to  be  scorned  with  my  weakness 
as  you  think.  It  is  not  all  for  him  this  grief.  It  is 
what  I  am  made  to  do.  Because  he  will  have  no 
marriage  ;  because  he  has  said  that  we  may  wed  the 
ideal,  and  know  in  that  the  highest  love,  and  that 
whom  he  loves  must  be  ready  to  renounce,  that  I 
write  at  last  to  my  little  Marguerite,  who  waits  at 
home,  that  she  must  wait  no  more  ;  that  another  will 
be  better  for  her.  We  were  betrothed ;  yes,  but  he 
makes  me  see  a  man's  power  is  lost  for  the  world 
when  he  sinks  it  in  one  woman,  and  I  had  world 
power  I  must  use.  And  now  when  I  believe  him  no 
more,  a  veil  falls  away  ;  I  lose  Marguerite,  who  is  proud, 
and  has  made  no  sign,  and  I  lose  my  faith,  that  was 
strong,  so  strong  —  I  could  live  for  him  only.  It  is 
but  yesterday  he  has  said,  '  Rene,  you  are  but  one. 
You  have  my  affection,  but  think  you  my  work  can 
rest  on  one  ?  Be  strong,  and  live  as  I  have  taught 
you,  and  you  have  recompense  in  that.'  His  eyes 
are  hard.  His  hand  has  no  more  sought  mine.  And 
then  I  know  I  am  forsaken,  and  there  is  no  return. 
Why  have  you  not  warned  all  —  you  who  knew  ?  " 

He  turned  upon  Ballantyne  fiercely. 

"  I  will  tell  it.  All  shall  know,"  he  said.  "  Not 
one  shall  believe  in  him  more.  And  this  Norton  ! 
I  would  kill  him  if  he  too  cared,  but  he  cares  not. 
//  tend  la  joue,  but  he  cares  not  for  the  kiss  that  waits. 
Ah,  infame  !  " 

He  dropped  his  head  in   his  hands  and   sat  silent, 


272  BALLANTYNE 

nor  would  he  reply  to  the  few  words  that  Ballantyne 
spoke.  More  were  useless,  and  as  he  heard  Percival's 
step  he  left  the  room  and  beckoned  him  to  his  own. 

"  Do  you  know  the  whole  of  Regnault's  story  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  I  did  not  till  yesterday,"  Percival  answered,  with 
even  deeper  trouble  in  his  face.  "  Till  then  I  counted 
much  of  his  passion  pure  melodrama  and  very  super 
fluous.  But  I  have  to  say  that,  so  far  as  Morris  is 
concerned,  I  think  him  conscientious  in  the  matter." 

"  How  ?  " 

"  Because  he  believes  absolutely  that  to  the  highest 
natures,  born  for  service,  marriage  is  not  only  un 
necessary,  but  a  degradation.  He  would  limit  it,  if 
he  could,  to  the  middle  class,  and  draw  on  them  for 
recruits  for  the  work  to  be  done." 

"  And  you  agree  with  him  ?  "   Ballantyne  asked. 

"  I  go  with  him  in  part,  but  only  in  part,  for  he 
has  small  capacity  for  understanding  the  best  in  a 
woman,  or  indeed  the  best  in  that  relation.  At  least 
I  must  think  so  from  some  experiences  I  have  known 
very  recently.  I  should  have  no  right  to  mention 
them  if  he  had  not  said  publicly,  the  other  day,  that 
he  let  his  own  engagement  linger  on  for  years,  be 
cause  certainly  his  enthusiasm  would  lessen  and  de 
teriorate  if  he  married.  Real  marriages,  I  know,  are 
few,  but  he  goes  too  far." 

«  If  one  dared  meddle  with  these  things,"  Ballan 
tyne  said,  after  a  pause,  "  the  inclination  would  be  to 
write  to  Regnault's  fiancee,  and  tell  the  real  story  for 


BALLANTYNE  273 

him.  Women  forgive  everything.  But  I  confess  I 
do  not  see  my  way  clear.  Only  one  thing  is  plain, 
and  that  is  that  I  have  no  further  place  here.  I  do 
not  need  to  say  that  for  you.  I  think  the  same,  Per- 
cival,  but  I  certainly  would  recommend  a  change." 

Percival  shook  his  head. 

"  If  we  all  went,"  he  said,  "  it  would  look  like 
concerted  action.  I  don't  want  to  hurt  Morris  un 
necessarily.  He  will  come  to  his  senses  soon,  and 
then  defection  would  be  only  cruelty." 

"  In  any  case  Regnault  must  be  taken  away,"  Bal- 
lantyne  replied.  "  He  is  quite  past  judging  for  him 
self.  I  will  arrange  with  him  if  I  can,  and  then 
speak  to  Morris." 

To  Ballantyne's  surprise,  next  morning  Regnault 
yielded  at  once,  passive  misery  having  succeeded  the 
rage  that  had  devoured  him  for  weeks. 

"  It  is  a  man  of  lead  you  will  take  with  you,"  was 
his  only  comment.  u  Beware  that  such  weight  does 
not  sink  your  boat  and  drag  you  to  the  bottom  with 
it." 

u  I  have  no  fear,"  Ballantyne  answered  ;  and  after 
seeing  him  begin  to  gather  together  his  effects,  aided 
by  Miss  Byers,  whose  quiet  comprehension  was  good 
for  all,  he  sought  Morris  in  his  study,  and  briefly  told 
him  that  Regnault  needed  change,  and  would  leave 
that  afternoon. 

The  uneasy,  roving  eyes  wore  a  harder  look  than 
Ballantyne  had  ever  seen  in  them,  and  as  he  listened, 
curious  gleams  came  and  went  and  his  face  grew  pale. 

18 


274 


BALLANTYNE 


Ballantyne  had  expected  a  torrent  of  opposition,  but 
there  was  none,  though  the  effort  at  restraint  was 
fully  apparent. 

"  Your  judgment  is  excellent,"  he  said,  with  a  thinly 
veiled  sneer.  "It  is  best  for  all  concerned  that  he 
should  go.  He  has  been  a  cruel  disappointment  to 
me." 

Ballantyne's  eyes  searched  the  strange  face  in 
voluntarily. 

"  I  confess  that  the  disappointment  seems  to  me  to 
belong  entirely  to  his  side,"  he  said ;  and  as  Morris 
met  his  look  darkly,  bowed  quietly,  and  left  the 
room,  nor  did  it  surprise  him,  when  the  hour  for 
leaving  came,  that  Morris  failed  to  appear. 

"  A  sneak,  after  all,"  he  thought,  relieved  to  have 
such  reasonable  ground  for  returning  to  his  first  im 
pressions.  He  had  left  a  general  good-bye,  receiving 
a  special  one  from  Dr.  Prescott,  whose  eyes  had  a 
look  of  ill-concealed  triumph,  and  whose  extended 
hand  Regnault  refused  to  take.  Percival  he  em 
braced  with  fervor. 

"  Come  away,  Per-cee-val,"  he  said.  "  Evil  and 
that  man  are  one.  I  thought  this  Paradise,  but  air 
of  the  Inferno  blows  in  it,  and  there  walks  Mephisto, 
and  smiles  at  his  doing." 

"  Wait  a  little,"  Percival  said,  "  and  you  will 
change.  Perhaps  soon  we  shall  all  be  here  again, 
and  the  clouds  quite  gone." 

Regnault  shook  his  head,  and  fell  again  into 
moody  silence,  and  Ballantyne,  who  found  it  impos- 


BALLANTYNE  275 

sible  to  rouse  him,  and  who  dreaded  its  results,  sat  by 
him  till  late  into  the  night,  persuading  him  at  last  to 
take  the  few  hours  of  sleep  that  could  be  secured  be 
fore  Fall  River  was  reached.  He  had  telegraphed  to 
Mrs.  LeBaron  that  he  was  on  the  way  with  Reg- 
nault,  and  relied  on  her  wisdom  for  some  way  out  of 
the  complication  which  he  felt  more  and  more  power 
less  to  meet. 


Chapter    Eighth 


i 


old  story,"  Mrs.  LeBaron  said 
quietly,  when  she  had  listened  to  Bal- 
lantyne's  report.  "  The  one  good 
thing  in  it  is  that  you  remain  un 
scathed.  That  was  my  terror.  As  for  this  poor 
boy,  we  must  wait  a  little  before  I  can  judge.  If 
his  Marguerite  can  be  reached  and  has  large  enough 
soul  to  comprehend,  that  will  be  the  best  cure.  He 
is  only  one  of  many  who  have  had  to  suffer." 

"  Then  you  understood  Morris  and  knew  his  ten 
dencies.  This  is  nothing  new  to  you  ?  In  such 
case,  why  have  you  not  spoken." 

Ballantyne's  look  held  both  surprise  and  indigna 
tion,  and  he  checked  himself  suddenly.  "  Of  course 
you  had  reason,  and,  knowing  you,  I  believe  it  a  good 
one." 

"  I  think  it  so,  yet  I  cannot  tell.  Being  one  of 
the  sucked  oranges  myself  may  alter  my  point  of 
view,  but  when,  after  a  year  of  closest  intimacy  with 
Dunbar  and  myself,  he  dropped  us  absolutely  for  a 
time,  we  had  to  form  some  theory  to  work  on." 

u  For  yourselves  or  for  others  ?  " 

"  For  both.      He  had  transferred  his  allegiance  to 


BALLANTYNE  277 

one  of  our  nearest  friends  with  the  same  fervor  that 
had  marked  that  to  us,  and  with  such  absolute  calm 
ness  of  disregard,  that  we  had  to  conclude  he  was 
practically  oblivious  of  offence  or  injury.  When  in 
turn  it  passed  on,  from  people  old  enough  to  compre 
hend,  in  part  at  least,  to  a  girl  I  loved,  that  was  dif 
ferent,  and  I  interfered.  It  did  no  good.  She  broke 
her  heart,  for  he  soon  exhausted  such  possibilities  as 
she  had  and  turned  to  her  brother.  Since  then,  I 
think,  no  woman  has  had  any  serious  entanglement 
with  him,  and  since  his  last  retreat  in  Italian  monas 
teries  he  scouts  marriage,  and  spends  his  superabun 
dant  affection  on  boys." 

"  But  this  all  being  so,  why  did  you  not  explain 
his  characteristics  before  I  went  there  ?  " 

"  Because  he  was  once,  and  in  some  ways  remains, 
my  friend,  and  because  I  saw  that  he  was  not  likely 
to  touch  you.  Do  you  not  find  that  the  better  you 
know  him,  the  less  you  feel  capable  of  judging  him  ?  " 

"  That  is  true,  but  he  is  dangerous." 

"  Not  often,  I  think.  There  is  absolute  genuine 
ness  in  his  learning  and  his  method  of  imparting  it. 
The  life  he  would  have  his  followers  lead  is  in  many 
points  a  noble  one.  What  right  have  I  to  prevent 
any  chance  that  may  come  to  him,  of  devotion  or 
unselfishness  ?  It  is  the  want  of  them  that  ruins 
him,  and  yet,  up  to  a  certain  point,  he  gives  them 
like  water.  It  is  too  complex  a  nature  to  judge  by 
ordinary  laws." 

"  Granted,"  Ballantyne  said.    "  But  there  are  a  few 


278  BALLANTYNE 

very  simple  ones  that  must  govern  even  genius,  are 
there  not  ?  I  admit  the  power,  but  I  have  found 
also  a  substratum  of  boor  and  sneak,  which  crops 
out  at  critical  moments,  and  is  as  much  the  real  man 
as  the  others.  He  will  shirk  responsibility,  and  I  am 
not  at  all  certain  he  would  not  lie  fluently,  for  his 
temperament  is  so  exaggerated  that  what  he  wishes 
to  believe  becomes  truth.  To  me  it  seems  right  to 
warn,  where  warning  can  be  of  any  use." 

u  But  when  his  fascination  has  begun  to  work,  the 
time  has  past,"  said  Mrs.  LeBaron.  "  That  is  the 
sad  part  of  it.  How  much  have  you  ever  learned 
from  a  warning,  John  ?  To  me,  at  least  in  my 
younger  days,  it  was  always  a  challenge  to  test  the 
thing  for  myself,  and  I  do  not  find  that  human  nature 
in  this  generation  has  altered." 

"  Then  experience  counts  for  nothing,  you  think?" 

"  Always  nothing,  if  brought  to  bear  directly.  Its 
only  mission  is  an  indirect  one.  The  accumulated 
product  passes  on,  and  that  is  where  heredity  and 
progress  join  hands.  You  learn  to  avoid  certain 
things,  and  the  child  follows  suit ;  but  every  '  thou 
shalt  not,'  since  time  began,  has  been  but  a  challenge 
to  mankind,  and  remains  so." 

"  And  this  is  all  an  old  story  to  you  ?  "  Ballantyne 
asked  after  a  pause,  in  which  he  had  frowned  again. 

"  I  wish  it  were  not,  but  his  life  here  meant  a  series 
of  changes.  There  were  so  many  splendid  boys,  for 
he  has  unerring  taste ;  he  knows  a  fine  thing  when 
he  sees  it,  —  who  have  gone  through  the  miseries  this 


BALLANTYNE  279 

poor  thing  Regnault  knows,  though  I  do  think  an 
American  can  bring  philosophy  to  bear  more  easily 
than  a  Frenchman.  With  one  or  two  it  has  made 
cynics.  For  the  rest,  I  think  it  has  been  an  invalu 
able  experience.  Are  you  not  yourself  the  richer  for 
your  time  with  him  ?  " 

Ballantyne  looked  at  her  silently. 

"  It  is  a  tribute  to  his  power,"  he  said,  at  last, 
"  that  I  have  to  say  yes,  and  to  admit  that  in  many 
points  he  has  the  secret  of  life.  Intellectually  there 
is  something  superb  in  his  quality.  There  he  is  honest. 
For  the  rest,  I  cannot  judge  him.  Spiritually  he  is  — 

"  Neither  you  nor  any  man  can  tell  what,  least 
of  all  himself,"  Mrs.  LeBaron  said,  as  he  hesitated. 
"  He  has  intellectual  convictions,  and  so  fervidly  that 
they  stimulate  soul-life  as  fully  to  himself  as  to  others. 
But  the  real  fire  is  not  there.  I  doubt  if  it  ever 
will  be." 

"  It  is  a  bale-fire  at  present,  and  his  community 
will  end  in  smoke  if  it  blazes  much  longer,"  Bal 
lantyne  said,  and  rose  to  see  Regnault,  then  turned 
impulsively. 

"  Does  it  ever,  has  it  ever  occurred  to  you,"  he 
said,  "that  there  is  a  mystery  about  this  being  of  double 
nature,  double  dealing,  and  double  personality  ?  " 

Mrs.  LeBaron  looked  at  him  steadily. 

"  Make  your  words  clear,  John.  What  do  you 
suspect  ?  " 

"  I  have  ceased  to  suspect.  I  believe.  It  is  a 
woman." 


28o  BALLANTYNE 

«  Your  proof  ?  " 

Ballantyne  threw  out  his  hands  with  a  gesture 
of  infinite  contempt.  "Proof?  There  is  but  one 
method  for  that.  But  I  caught  the  other  day,  as  little 
Madame  Bergmann  hovered  about  him,  an  expression 
of  the  Inferno  itself,  and  yet  a  childish  sort  of  glee 
as  well,  —  an  expression  that  held  a  diabolical  rejoic 
ing  in  her  useless  and  hopeless  infatuation,  —  a  glee 
that  power  was  in  him  to  produce  it.  A  woman 
taking  revenge  on  all  women  for  some  suffering  of 
the  past ;  a  woman  in  her  power  to  hold  and  play 
with  men,  and  the  man's  brain,  —  the  intellect  of  a 
hundred  men  in  one,  dominating  the  whole.  If  I  be 
lieved  in  a  Mephisto  I  should  say  this  was  his  present 
reincarnation.  You  are  silent.  My  cousin,  you  must 
answer  me.  I  cannot  go  back  without  it." 

"  I  cannot,"  she  said.  "  This  is  all  barest  sus 
picion.  I  have  felt  it  a  thousand  times,  and,  save  to 
Dunbar,  always  kept  silence.  He  shared  it  with  me, 
yet  could  never  feel  sure.  It  is,  was,  only  instinct 
like  mine.  What  right  had  we  to  interfere  with  his 
own  plan  of  living  ?  Rosa  Bonheur  chose  the  same 
dress.  Oh,  I  know  this  is  different,"  as  Ballantyne 
made  an  impatient  movement.  "  Of  course  it  is 
different." 

"  He  has  worn  this  dress  always  ?  " 

"  By  no  means.  In  the  first  years  after  he  came  over 
from  every  point  in  the  civilized  world  it  seemed  — for 
he  seemed  familiar  with  all — he  wore  the  ordinary 
man's  dress,  only  that  he  chose  the  velvet  coat  of  the 


BALLANTYNE  281 

artist,  and  was  usually  taken  for  an  artist.  Certainly 
he  knows  more  of  real  art  than  any  dozen  of  them. 
He  had  been  in  the  Austrian  army,  it  was  said.  In  a 
Greek  insurrection  we  know,  for  friends  of  ours  saw 
him  in  Athens  just  afterward,  and  he  boasted  of  his 
usual  fortune  in  coming  out  without  a  scratch.  In 
these  later  years  he  has  been  practically  a  monk  for 
three  of  them  at  least,  for  he  came  and  went  from  the 
Franciscan  convent  in  Rome.  Don't  you  see  it  can't 
be  ?  It  is  simply  an  unheard-of  combination  of  traits 
and  gifts,  this  subtle,  freakish,  woman-side,  a  psycho 
logical  puzzle.  He  wears  this  monk's  robe  at  will. 
I  have  seen  him  also  in  a  priest's  cassock." 

Ballantyne  threw  back  his  head  as  if  to  dismiss  the 
subject. 

"That  is  his  present  dress  as  he  goes  back  and 
forth  to  New  York.  But  in  the  study  I  have  seen 
him  in  the  white  robe  of  a  Bramahcharin,  and  he  now 
and  then  puts  on  one  given  him  by  a  whirling  der 
vish.  He  says  he  cannot  work  save  in  the  loosest 
possible  garment." 

"  Balzac  had  the  same  method,  you  remember. 
This  man  is  of  all  faiths  and  all  nations,"  Mrs. 
LeBaron  said.  "  It  is  a  mystery  we  cannot  solve. 
In  fact,  as  I  have  often  seen  him  surrounded  by  ador 
ing  women,  I  have  thought  myself  a  lunatic  for  my 
own  conviction.  I  have  no  facts.  It  is  only  the 
sudden  outcropping  of  ways  that  are  distinctively  a 
woman's." 

"  Seraphita  and  Seraphitus  ?  "  said  Ballantyne. 


282  BALLANTYNE 

u  Don't,  I  beg  you.  It  is  sacrilege.  This  burly 
monk  is  a  new  role  to  us  all,  but  not  at  all  astonish 
ing.  You  must  confess  he  fills  it  well.  The  wonder 
is,  if  we  are  right,  that  Jesuit  eyes  and  brains  have 
not  long  ago  fathomed  the  mystery  and  forbidden 
further  masquerade.  There  is  diabolism  in  it.  Do 
not  go  back,  John,  unless  you  must.  Stay  with  us  at 
Plymouth.  You  need  the  simplicity  of  a  man  like 
Nathan  Allen  to  take  the  bad  taste  out  of  your 
mouth.  Plymouth  is  good  working  ground.  Reg- 
nault  will  be  content  there,  I  think,  and  it  will  give 
you  opportunity  to  study  up  the  colonial  background, 
as  well  as  to  listen  to  more  stories  from  Nathan,  who 
is  as  absorbed  in  telling  as  you  in  listening.  Here  he 
is  now,  and  he  will  beg  you  to  stay,  if  begging  be 
necessary." 

"  It  is  not,  I  assure  you.  You  do  not  need  to  be 
told  it,"  Ballantyne  said,  rising  hastily  as  the  stately 
head  of  Colonel  Allen  appeared  in  the  doorway,  where 
he  paused  for  a  moment  for  a  word  with  the  child 
who  had  followed  him.  "  Do  not  be  troubled," 
Ballantyne  added  low.  "  We  will  not  speak  of  this 
again  unless  there  is  grave  reason,"  and  he  turned  to 
the  new-comer,  who  soon  proposed  an  adjournment 
to  the  shore,  where  in  a  sheltered  corner  Regnault 
had  already  brought  his  book  and  great  umbrella, 
renouncing  both  at  the  will  of  the  two  younger 
children,  who  proposed  to  bury  him  in  the  sand.  He 
seemed  quiet  and  untroubled,  and  entered  into  the 
play  so  heartily  that  Ballantyne,  who  had  fallen  into 


BALLANTYNE  283 

the  habit  of  watching  him  anxiously,  turned  away 
with  the  strongest  sense  of  relief  he  had  felt  since 
leaving  New  York,  and  began  strolling  up  and  down 
the  shore  with  the  older  man. 

The  life  lived  here  had  no  counterpart  in  anything 
he  had  ever  known.  In  Colonel  Allen,  the  son  of 
Mrs.  LeBaron's  oldest  brother,  and  very  nearly  her 
own  age,  he  found  a  singular  but  delightful  mixture 
of  the  two  generations.  The  family  had  come  down 
but  a  few  weeks  before,  —  a  quiet  wife,  who  adored 
him,  three  sons,  two  of  whom  were  in  Harvard,  and 
the  two  little  girls,  barely  beyond  early  childhood.  A 
type  of  good  fellowship  was  with  them  all  unlike 
anything  his  English  life  had  given,  —  a  comradeship 
that  seemed  to  him  the  ideal  of  intercourse,  a  family 
life  so  sweet  and  high  that  he  marvelled  as  he  looked, 
and  on  all  sides  sought  for  its  counterpart  elsewhere 
with  a  faith  that  in  such  life  lay  the  promise  of  the 
new  era  to  come. 

Colonel  Allen  himself,  though  now  judge  in  one 
of  the  Boston  courts,  preferred  his  old  title,  cleaving 
to  every  recollection  of  war  days,  and  passionately 
loyal  to  the  cause  for  which  he  had  fought.  A  brill 
iant  talker,  he  found  in  Ballantyne  an  ardent  listener 
to  every  scrap  of  reminiscence,  and  they  had  spent 
hours  together  daily. 

Up  to  this  time  Ballantyne  had  happened  to  meet 
but  few  who  had  taken  part  in  the  struggle,  and  he 
had  marvelled  often  at  the  oblivion,  almost  total, 
which  seemed  to  have  fallen  upon  it  all.  To  bury 


284  BALLANTYNE 

bitterness  was  well,  yet  it  seemed  to  him  that  even 
the  memory  of  the  cause  had  died  out,  and  the  younger 
generation  growing  up  had  small  knowledge  of  its 
meaning,  and  small  honor  for  those  who  survived. 
But  for  these  sons,  at  least,  his  conclusion  might  be 
altered.  They  were  a  different  order  from  most  of 
the  Harvard  men  he  had  happened  to  meet  :  simpler, 
more  in  earnest,  and  devoted  to  the  father,  who 
seemed  rather  elder  brother  and  friend  than  parent. 

To  go  over  the  whole  background  in  the  light  of 
knowledge  like  his,  to  find  day  after  day  what  love 
and  loyalty  lived  in  him,  and  what  supreme  faith  for 
the  future  he  had  battled  for,  ruled  his  life  and  thought, 
was  for  Ballantyne  an  element  that  gave  at  last  to  his 
own  contrary  and  vexing  impressions  the  form  they 
had  lacked.  No  matter  how  Philistinism  or  mammon 
might  come  uppermost,  what  flaws  show  themselves 
at  will,  and  the  whole  structure  even  at  moments 
seem  toppling  to  its  fall,  below,  strong  and  sure,  were 
the  foundations  built  on  everlasting  right. 

"  When  need  came,  the  men  were  there.  When 
need  comes  again,  their  places  will  be  rilled  as  well," 
the  colonel  said,  with  a  lifting  of  the  gray  head  that 
showed  itself  ready  still  for  the  storming  of  any  for- 
lornest  hope.  u  The  South  knows  it  all  now.  They 
were  glorious  fighters.  I  bow  to  the  memory  of  Lee 
and  Stonewall  Jackson.  They  were  patriots  both, 
and  they  know  now  where  their  blunder  was." 

"  But  Morris,  —  you  know  him,  Mrs.  LeBaron  tells 
me,"  —  said  Ballantyne,  "  insists  that  the  Massachu- 


BALLANTYNE  285 

setts  element,  for  instance,  was  chiefly  dilettante.  It 
was  a  fashion  to  join  a  regiment,  and  they  flocked  like 
so  many  sheep  after  a  leader." 

u  A  fashion  ?  "  Colonel  Allen  said,  his  deep  voice 
deeper  than  ever.  •  "  It  was  a  fashion  that  led  Robert 
Shaw  and  Theodore  Winthrop  to  their  death,  and 
buried  the  first  under  the  negroes  who  filled  that 
trench  at  Fort  Wagner ;  a  fashion  that  made  our  best 
ready  for  death  on  the  battlefield  or  starvation  in  rebel 
prisons.  These  men  sacrificed  more  in  one  hour 
than  this  dog  will  do  in  a  lifetime  of  mouthing." 

"  Father  !  "  Charles  Allen  interposed,  "  that  is  a 
little  steep,  you  know." 

"  How  should  he  know,  coming  here  when  it  was 
all  over,  what  it  had  meant  ?  And  how  dare  he  pose 
as  teacher  and  leader,  when  he  has  only  a  sneer  for 
the  one  holy  thing  in  this  mammon-loving  century  ?  " 
returned  his  father,  hotly.  "  Straight  through  every 
shame  we  have  known,  political  treachery,  and  cor 
ruption,  trust  betrayed,  honor  a  name,  lying  the 
foundation  of  success,  I  fall  back  on  what  has  been, 
and  what  will  be.  The  stream  flows  deep.  I  care 
not  what  sticks  and  straws,  what  carrion  even,  float 
on  its  surface, —  its  water  is  for  the  healing  of  the 
nations." 

"  c  Triumphant  democracy,'  "  said  the  younger,  but 
his  eyes  belied  the  slight  sarcasm  of  his  tone. 

"That  demonstration  may  pass,"  said  the  colonel. 
"  It  is  a  mere  cock-a-doodle-doo,  well  crowed  and  re 
assuring,  perhaps,  for  those  who  are  tempted  to  believe 


286  BALLANTYNE 

midnight  a  permanent  state,  but  the  merest  material 
satisfaction  in  huge  crops,  long  railroad  lines,  bonanza 
farms,  and  big  fortunes.  The  real  America  is  not 
there,  any  more  than  the  typical  American  is  em 
bodied  in  a  Jay  Gould." 

"  That  typical  American  lingers  in  the  background," 
said  Charles  Allen. 

"  Not  a  very  remote  one,  my  boy.  Turn  to  Lin 
coln,  if  you  want  one.  It  is  his  name  that  means  the 
promise  of  more  like  him,  and  there  are  men  in  our 
midst  to-day,  going  their  quiet  way,  who  in  any  crisis 
would  show  what  power  simple  right  carries  with  it. 
When  the  roll  is  called  they  will  answer." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,"  Ballantyne  replied.  "  But  in 
the  mean  time  here  are  a  thousand  forms  of  injustice 
and  oppression,  and  all  culminating  with  either  uncon 
sciousness  or  entire  ignoring  of  their  existence.  Your 
labor  question  is  as  serious  as  the  English,  and  you 
have  not  yet  begun  to  consider  the  meaning  of  the 
general  discontent  and  revolt." 

"  And  I  doubt  if  we  shall  fully  till  blood  has  been 
spilled,"  said  Colonel  Allen.  "  We  are  a  curiously  in 
different  people,  easy-going  and  careless  to  the  last 
moment ;  but  when  we  rouse,  in  the  end  we  learn 
and  remember.  There  is  something  in  the  old  words, 
'  Without  shedding  of  blood  is  no  remission  of  sins.' 
It  is  a  clarifying  process,  if  nothing  else.  I  tell  you, 
Ballantyne,  you  need  not  fear." 

"  I  am  speaking  from  a  multitude  of  impressions," 
Ballantyne  began. 


BALLANTYNE  287 

u  You  need  more  time,  my  dear  fellow.  You  have 
scampered  through  the  country,  and  have,  I  know,  a 
blue-book  of  facts  and  impressions,  but  you  must  live 
on  and  settle  to  your  own  work  before  you  come  to 
any  knowledge  that  will  bear  fruit  in  life.  I  look  to 
you,  to  my  boys  here,  to  every  young  fellow  whose 
very  scoff  at  the  shame  of  things  is  a  promise  of  bet 
ter  doings,  to  give  us  the  text  we  must  live  by.  It 
is  war  still,  but  it  may  be  made  a  bloodless  victory. 
Here  is  something  you  must  let  me  repeat,  —  words 
spoken  by  one  who  fought  and  who  remembers." 

The  colonel  paused  a  moment,  and  his  eyes  light 
ened  as  he  went  on  : 

" c  Through  our  great  good  fortune,  in  our  youth 
our  hearts  were  touched  with  fire.  It  was  given  us 
to  learn  at  the  outset  that  life  is  a  "  profound  and  pas 
sionate  thing."  While  we  are  permitted  to  scorn 
nothing  but  indifference,  and  do  not  pretend  to  under 
value  the  worldly  rewards  of  ambition,  we  have  seen 
with  our  own  eyes  beyond  and  above  the  gold  fields 
the  snowy  heights  of  honor,  and  it  is  for  us  to  bear 
the  report  to  those  who  come  after  us.' ' 

"  What  an  old  war-horse  it  is,"  said  Charles  Allen, 
who  had  joined  them,  and  whose  hand  sought  his 
father's  nervous,  sinewy  one,  with  the  instinctive 
sympathy  that  united  them.  "  It  is  frightfully  bad 
form,  you  know,  to  care  for  anything  so  much  as 
you  care  just  for  being  alive  to-day,  on  American 
soil." 

"  Thank  God  that  I  am,  and  that  it  is  my  birth- 


288  BALLANTYNE 

right  !  "  the  colonel  said  solemnly,  and  walked  away, 
too  greatly  moved  for  further  words. 

"  I  wish  I  could  look  at  it  all  with  your  eyes,  Bal 
lantyne,"  young  Allen  said  as  they  rose  from  the 
rocks  where  for  a  few  minutes  they  had  sat  down, 
and  continued  the  interrupted  walk.  "  I  don't  want 
to  be  too  cocksure,  and  that  is  the  tendency  of  the 
wholesale  faith  in  ourselves  in  which  we  have  come 
up.  Rather  that,  though,  than  the  wholesale  deprecia 
tion  that  a  good  many  of  our  men  seem  to  think  is  the 
only  correct  thing." 

He  paused  suddenly,  for  something  like  the  howl 
of  a  madman  sounded  from  below,  with  a  shriek  from 
the  children,  who  came  running. 

"  He  is  dreadfully  sick.  He  bit  his  letter,"  the 
oldest  cried  ;  and  Ballantyne  broke  into  a  run  as  he 
saw  Regnault  dash  toward  the  point,  just  in  time  to 
prevent  his  throwing  himself  in,  and  rinding  sharp 
struggle  necessary. 

"  This  time  you  shall  not,"  Regnault  cried ;  but 
Ballantyne  threw  himself  upon  him,  calling  to  young 
Allen,  who  in  a  moment  had  added  his  force,  the 
strength  of  two  now  necessary  to  hold  the  wild  crea 
ture  in  their  hands.  As  he  fought,  a  letter  dropped 
from  his  pocket,  and  even  in  the  midst  of  the  strug 
gle  Ballantyne  saw  and  recognized  the  familiar  hand 
writing  of  Morris. 

"  He  have  dismissed  me.  I  go  back  no  more  !  I 
will  live  no  more !  "  Regnault  cried.  Then  his 
clutch  relaxed,  he  fell  back  suddenly,  and  they  saw 


BALLANTYNE  289 

that  he  had  fainted,  not  to  be  revived  by  any  means 
brought  to  bear. 

To  hail  a  passing  wagon,  lift  him  in  and  return 
as  speedily  as  possible  to  the  house,  was  the  only 
method ;  and  shortly  they  had  laid  him  on  his  own 
bed,  and  watched  the  color  coming  back  to  his  death 
like  face.  He  opened  his  eyes  silently  at  last,  slowly, 
as  if  it  were  hardly  worth  the  effort,  looked  about  for 
a  moment,  a  look  of  unspeakable  wretchedness  in 
their  clear  blue,  and  closed  them  again.  A  silence  so 
unnatural  that  Ballantyne  had  rather  have  encountered 
raving  was  upon  him,  and  it  held  him  day  after  day. 
The  children  came  and  went  softly,  and  he  touched 
them  for  a  moment,  then  turned  away.  Only  Mrs. 
LeBaron  had  any  power  over  him,  and  even  with  her 
he  seldom  spoke. 

u  He  renounces  me.  I  see  him  no  more,"  was 
the  only  explanation  of  his  state ;  and  the  pitying 
woman  who  watched  him  knew  that  the  inevitable 
experience  she  sorrowed  over  in  more  than  one  was 
working  its  will  in  a  temperament  that  had  never 
learned  how  best  to  bear  pain,  and  sought  to  teach 
him,  if  might  be,  that  escape  was  still  possible,  but 
only  through  his  own  will.  He  answered  nothing. 
Brooding  melancholy  had  settled  down,  and  the  pas 
sage  was  swift  into  a  state  from  which  not  even  she 
could  rouse  him.  It  was  a  burden  too  great  for  this 
peaceful  home,  and  Ballantyne  presently  took  him  up 
to  Boston,  proposing  to  consult  an  expert  alienist, 
and  in  the  meantime  installing  him  in  his  own  rooms. 

19 


290  BALLANTYNE 

Ashton's  sympathies  had  been  enlisted,  and  he 
made  many  advances  to  Regnault,  who  rejected  them 
with  barest  courtesy.  To  argue  was  useless.  Any 
help  must  come  from  within,  and  the  fierce  brooding 
that  consumed  him  was  not  ground  in  which  any 
seed  of  patience  or  of  hope  could  find  present  root. 
A  day  or  two  in  which  he  sat  with  bowed  head  and 
folded  arms,  lost  in  misery,  and  then  as  Ballantyne 
came  in  one  afternoon,  later  than  usual  and  troubled 
that  he  had  been  so  long  delayed,  a  note  lay  on  the 
table  and  Regnault  was  gone. 

"  I  must  see  him  again,"  it  read.  "  You  are  of  a 
goodness  inconceivable,  but  it  makes  nothing  till  I 
have  talked  with  him,  and  made  him  to  know  what 
I  suffer." 

To  telegraph  to  Percival  of  his  probable  appear 
ance  was  all  that  remained  to  be  done,  and  Ballan 
tyne  returned  to  Plymouth  hardly  less  anxious  than 
before  as  to  what  results  might  be,  but  relieved  by  a 
letter  from  Percival,  which  came  a  day  later. 

"  I  was  fearful  of  what  might  happen,"  he  wrote. 
"  But  fortunately  Norton  has  been  called  away  for 
a  few  days  by  the  illness  of  his  mother,  and  so  Reg 
nault  found  the  field  his  own.  Morris  welcomed 
him  with  some  show  of  cordiality,  and  for  the  pres 
ent  at  least  Regnault  is  comparatively  calm  and  at 
ease.  I  will  keep  you  informed  as  to  the  course  of 
affairs,  but  am  hoping  now  that  I  can  induce  Reg 
nault  to  go  away  before  Norton  returns." 

"  It    has    passed    out    of   my   hands,"    Ballantyne 


BALLANTYNE  291 

thought,  with  a  long  breath  of  relief,  settling  within 
his  own  mind  to  remain  with  Mrs.  LeBaron  the 
greater  part  of  the  time,  since  she  had  begged  for  it, 
and  his  own  wish  was  one  with  hers.  Early  after 
noon  brought  a  telegram. 

"  Come  at  once,  if  possible,"  it  read.  "  In  great 
trouble  ;  "  and  Ballantyne,  with  a  clouded  look,  paused 
for  a  moment  to  say  a  reassuring  word  to  Colonel 
Allen,  who  had  said,  "  Nothing  serious,  I  hope,"  and 
then  went  on  to  take  counsel  with  Mrs.  LeBaron. 

"  I  cannot  refuse,"  he  said ;  "  and  yet  it  is  certain 
there  will  be  conflict  of  some  sort.  I  want  no  words 
with  Morris,  for  he  is  hardly  in  his  senses  at  present." 

"Percival's  common  sense  will  prevent  any  scene," 
Mrs.  LeBaron  said,  but  her  face  was  anxious.  "  I 
hoped  you  were  through  with  all  of  them,"  she  added. 
"  Where  his  own  desires  are  involved  the  man  stops 
at  nothing,  and  even  scandal  would  be  indifferent  to 
him.  Thank  Heaven,  there  is  no  woman  in  the 
case." 

"  That  is  an  alleviating  circumstance,"  Ballantyne 
said,  with  a  half  smile,  "  and  will  make  things  easier. 
That  phase  may  come  later,  if  some  of  them  have 
their  way." 

u  Heaven  help  them  if  they  do,"  said  Mrs.  LeBaron, 
fervently. 

"  And  Heaven  help  him  no  less,"  Ballantyne  said, 
and  turned  to  the  time-table  in  the  hall.  "  I  cannot 
get  up  in  season  for  the  steamboat  train,"  he  said. 
"  So  we  will  have  supper  together  peaceably,  and  I 


292  BALLANTYNE 

will  go  up  at  eight,  and  on  to  New  York  at  midnight. 
I  shall  not  remain  there  one  unnecessary  hour.  I 
want  this  atmosphere  to  go  back  with  me ;  not  that. 
This  last  time  with  you  is  worth  all  the  rest.  Without 
it  I  do  not  know  how  I  could  have  answered  Marion." 

He  had  not  spoken  her  name  since  the  evening  in 
which  he  had  told  her  story,  but  there  was  a  new 
confidence  in  look  and  tone. 

"Whatever  comes  of  this,"  he  said;  "and  there  is 
sharp  trouble,  else  Percival  would  never  have  called 
me  back,  I  seem  to  have  no  more  doubt  of  the  fu 
ture.  It  is  not  presumption,  though  it  sounds  like  it. 
It  is  an  inward  conviction,  deep  as  life  itself,  that 
fulfilment  of  desire  is  near,  and  I  shall  know  the  best 
of  life.  If  Marion  still  desires  it,  there  is  the  old 
house  at  home,  and  she  shall  feel  it  home,  and  divide 
her  time  between  the  two." 

Mrs.  LeBaron  looked  up  quickly,  but  his  face  was 

in  shadow. 

«  Then  your  own  standpoint  has  changed  ?  "  she 
said.  «  America  is  not  as  essential  to  you  as  it  was." 

"  It  is  more  so,  I  think,"  he  answered,  slowly. 
«  But  I  have  gone  through  a  world  of  disenchant 
ment  and  readjustment,  to  find  myself  at  last  on  solid 
ground,  from  which  I  am  not  likely  to  be  dislodged. 
I  can  estimate  values  better.  I  am  certain  as  to  the 
future.  That  life  at  home,  the  necessities  involved, 
had  brought  about  abnormal  sensitiveness,  and  a  home 
sick  longing  so  strong  that  only  yielding  to  it,  and 
being  carried  for  a  time  where  it  would,  could  bring 


BALLANTYNE  293 

the  flood  to  natural  levels.  I  think  we  were  both  ab 
normal,  and  that  this  year  had  meant  for  her  no  less 
than  for  me,  —  readjustment,  and  a  better  estimate 
of  what  things  are  worth.  In  any  case  life  without 
her  is  impossible.  We  must  work  it  out  as  we  can, 
but  I  believe  she  will  care  to  come  home  again,  and 
that  life  in  the  old  house  will  renew  itself  in  such 
form  as  it  has  never  known." 

"  It  is  a  prophecy,"  Mrs.  LeBaron  said ;  but  tears 
were  in  her  eyes  as  she  turned  away  hastily  lest  he 
should  see  them.  "  Dear  soul ;  brave,  true  soul," 
she  thought.  u  I  wish  you  need  never  be  at  the 
mercy  of  any  woman's  whim.  He  is  worth  the  ut 
most  devotion  the  noblest  can  give  him,  and  who 
knows  what  the  end  will  be  ?  That  the  breath  that 
goes  to  the  '  no  '  of  a  foolish  girl  can  be  a  blast  strong 
enough  to  blight  a  life  like  that !  It  is  horrible  that 
human  beings  have  such  power  to  save  or  destroy." 

"There's  the  stuff  for  a  good  soldier  in  him,"  said 
Colonel  Allen,  as  they  turned  from  the  station  to 
which  they  had  accompanied  him  ;  Dorothy  and  Mar 
garet,  the  two  little  girls,  clinging  to  him  to  the  last, 
and  deeply  disconsolate  at  the  wresting  from  them  of 
a  playmate  so  fascinating.  "  He  walks  like  one,  and 
there  is  a  look  in  his  eye  that  would  mean  mischief, 
if  mischief  were  needed." 

"  It  seems  to  be  needed  now,"  Mrs.  LeBaron 
said,  with  a  sudden  impulse  to  throw  part  of  her  bur 
den  on  these  broad  and  kindly  shoulders,  and  she 
gave  such  outline  of  the  tale  as  was  needed.  It  did 


294  BALLANTYNE 

not  require  many  words.  Morris  had  seldom  had 
much  discussion,  for  heartily  as  Colonel  Allen  de 
tested  him,  he  respected  her  loyalty  to  the  past. 
Now  he  listened  silently,  nodding  now  and  then  as 
if  his  own  conviction  were  affirmed. 

"  No  nationality  comes  amiss,  it  seems,"  he  said 
grimly,  as  she  ended.  "  It  is  a  catholic  sort  of  maw, 
and  calls  for  all  sorts.  Don't  fret,  Mary.  This  is  a 
type  he  cannot  swallow  whole.  He  has  his  match, 
and  you  need  not  fear  but  that  Ballantyne  will  find  a 
way  to  straighten  things." 

"  There  is  no  straightening  for  a  skein  so  tangled," 
Mrs.  LeBaron  said,  her  voice  still  troubled. 

"Cut  it,  then." 

"  Ah,  but  when  human  lives  and  souls  are  the 
threads,  cutting  is  not  so  easy." 

"  That  is  pure  sentiment.  A  sharp  cut  and  actual 
cautery,  and  the  deed  is  done,  and  life  can  be  lived 
afterward.  Put  it  away,  Mary,  and  now  drown  the 
thought  of  that  blatant  Scotch  Frenchman,  or  what 
ever  he  is,  in  a  game  of  whist." 


Chapter   Ninth 


Y~  |    ""^HE  little  settlement  wore  its  usual  aspect, 

\:  a  blending  of  solid  and  substantial  past 

rv  embodied    in    the    old   house,  with   the 

-^^  ephemeral  and   dubious    present  of  the 

flimsy  cottages.      Ballantyne,  who  had   passed   from 

one   apprehension   to   another   as   he    pondered  what 

the    telegram    might    imply,    lifted     the    lion's-head 

knocker,  and  then  letting  it  drop,  went  in  with  the 

impulse   to   first  find   Percival  and  discover  the  real 

state  of  things  before  he  encountered  other  members 

of  the  family. 

The  study  door  stood  open,  but  the  room  was 
empty,  nor  was  there  any  sound  of  life  save  low 
voices  from  a  distant  room.  As  he  paused  for  a 
moment,  the  door  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  opened 
suddenly  and  Morris  stood  there,  haggard,  dishev 
elled,  and  pale  as  if  with  watching. 

"  I  wanted  the  doctor,"  he  said,  with  no  apparent 
consciousness  of  Ballantyne's  presence,  and  shut  the 
door  as  that  to  Percival's  room  opened,  and  Percival 
himself  came  out,  lifting  his  finger  in  sign  of  silence. 
Ballantyne  took  the  hand  put  out  to  him  silently,  nor 


296  BALLANTYNE 

did  either  speak  till  Percival  had  led  him  down  to  the 
parlor  and  closed  the  doors. 

"  You  are  in  a  private  lunatic  asylum  at  present," 
he  said,  with  an  attempt  at  a  smile,  "  and  I  am  just 
on  the  border  myself,  Ballantyne.  I  knew  no  one 
else  to  turn  to." 

He  was  deadly  pale  and  worn,  with  the  same  look 
of  long  and  anxious  watching  that  had  showed  on 
Morris's  face. 

«  We  have  had  three  diabolical  weeks,"  he  went 
on.  "  I  did  not  write,  because  I  hoped  to  settle 
matters  without  troubling  you,  and  since  the  affair, 
there  has  been  no  moment  in  which  I  dared  leave 
Regnault." 

"  An  affair  ?  A  duel,  then,  is  the  outcome  of  the 
Brotherhood  system?" 

"  No,  but  as  bad.  Regnault  has  stabbed  Norton, 
and  taken  morphine  on  his  own  account,  a  horrible 
and  profoundly  unnecessary  misery  for  all  concerned. 
Morris  is  as  much  a  lunatic  as  the  rest,  and  I  am 
laboring  to  keep  it  all  quiet,  with  no  hint  for  the  re 
porters,  who  would  swcop  down  on  us  like  so  many 
vultures  on  carrion  if  but  a  breath  got  out.  I  want 
you  to  help,  for  you  will  understand." 

"  What  I  can,"  Ballantyne  answered,  suppressing 
all  tokens  of  his  disgust  for  the  entire  complication. 
"  Now  tell  me  briefly  as  you  choose  what  the  ex 
traordinary  melodrama  means." 

"That  is  precisely  what  it  seems,"  Percival  said. 
"You  would  say  I  was  dealing  with  tolerably  well 


BALLANTYNE  297 

defined  realities,  but  the  cause  is  to  me  so  prepos 
terously  inadequate,  that  I  wait  involuntarily  to  hear 
the  curtain  ring  down.  It  all  began  in  a  passionate 
scene  in  Morris's  study.  Norton,  who  returned  the 
day  after  you  left,  had  thought  things  over  in  his  ab 
sence,  realized  that  he  did  not  belong  here  by  any 
natural  affinity,  and  promised  his  grandfather  to  break 
loose  at  once  and  go  abroad.  He  came  out  late  in 
the  evening,  and  found  Dr.  Prescott  with  Morris. 
They  never  got  on,  you  know.  The  doctor  has  a 
sneering  way,  and  he  said  I  don't  know  what,  but 
enough  to  excite  Norton,  and  then  left.  I  heard 
voices  below  me  rising  and  falling,  and  then  Morris 
cried  out  my  name.  I  ran  down.  He  stood  there 
sobbing  like  a  boy,  his  arms  around  Norton,  and  a 
flood  of  wild  words  pouring  out,  —  entreaties,  threats, 
I  know  not  what. 

"  c  Percival,  you  love  me  ;  make  him  see  that  I  must 
not  be  left,'  he  cried  as  he  saw  me,  and  Norton 
struggled  away  and  came  to  me.  c  I  think  it  would 
kill  me  to  live  with  him  another  day,'  he  said,  and 
sunk  into  a  chair  half  fainting.  Regnault  in  the 
meantime  had  been  lying  asleep  on  Morris's  lounge, 
and  roused  at  last  to  hear  this  frantic  appeal.  He 
rushed  to  him.  c  You  have  me,  mon  maitre  !  You 
have  me ;  it  suffices  !  '  he  cried,  and  tried  to  clasp 
him.  Then  Morris,  whose  sense  was  quite  gone, 
gave  him  one  great  thrust  backward.  c  Away,  you 
stupid  brute  ! '  he  said.  '  I  was  through  with  you 
long  ago.'  Regnault  fell  back  and  looked  at  him, 


298  BALLANTYNE 

and  the  devil  was  in  his  eye.  Then  he  gave  a  snarl 
and  spring ;  it  was  like  some  wild  beast  in  sudden 
fury.  He  caught  the  stiletto,  the  Persian  thing  on 
Morris's  table,  and  dashed  at  Norton.  '  It  is  you, 
the  cause,  the  cause  ! '  he  shrieked  out,  and  struck  at 
him  ;  but  Morris  flung  himself  against  him  and  the 
blade  glanced  aside.  It  was  a  deep  flesh-wound  only, 
but  Norton  was,  it  seems,  on  the  brink  of  fever,  and 
he  had  no  force  to  stand  up  against  the  whole  horror 
of  it. 

u  Regnault  came  to  himself  as  he  saw  blood  flow, 
and  begged  madly  for  forgiveness,  but  Morris  spurned 
him  away.  He  was  incapable  of  anything  but  loath 
ing,  and  the  poor  wretch  crept  to  his  room  and  swal 
lowed  all  the  morphine  of  his  sleeping-powders.  It 
was  a  hard  pull  to  save  his  life,  and  he  is  stupid  and 
heavy  still.  We  must  get  him  away  at  once.  You 
see  what  need  there  was  of  you.  It  is  quite  unreason 
able,  for  I  have  no  claim  ;  not  the  slightest." 

"  You  have  every  claim,"  Ballantyne  said  quietly, 
as  Percival's  voice  broke.  "  You  know  well  for 
what  willing  service  I  am  ready  in  any  cause  of 
yours.  Which  madman  is  to  be  dealt  with  first  ?  " 
"  Regnault.  I  do  not  know  what  may  happen, 
for  Morris  has  a  curiously  relentless  streak.  I  have 
made  him  see  the  seriousness  of  the  charge  and  urged 
him  to  go  home,  at  least  for  a  time.  A  steamer  sails 
to-morrow  afternoon.  If  he  knows  that  your  mind 
is  the  same  as  mine  in  the  matter,  perhaps  we  can 
get  him  away  quietly.  He  is  hysterical  as  a  girl,  and 


BALLANTYNE  299 

I  have  had  to  give  all  my  energy  to  keeping  him  quiet 
on  Norton's  account." 

"  Is  young  Marston  in  the  midst  of  it  all  ?  " 

u  No,  thank  Heaven !  He  went  off  for  a  few 
days  just  before  it  happened,  but  he  is  terribly  dis 
affected.  It  seems  Regnault,  who  was  fond  of  him, 
you  know,  wrote  to  him  that  he  must  not  return, 
and  Marston  wrote  to  Miss  Byers  to  ask  what  it 
meant.  In  his  letter  to  her  he  said  that  personally 
he  should  be  glad  enough  not  to,  for  Morris  had  lost 
all  interest  in  him,  but  as  the  engagement  was  for 
the  year,  he  supposed  it  must  go  on.  She  brought 
it  to  me,  and  I  wrote  him  to  return,  as  Norton 
would  very  soon  leave.  Once  clear  the  coast,  and 
things  will  be  better." 

u  They  will  never  be  better,"  Ballantyne  said,  with 
sudden  decision.  "  Percival,  you  have  had  your  year 
of  novitiate,  and  you  know  it  is  true.  Come  back 
with  me,  and  let  me  leave  you  safe  in  my  rooms  till 
I  come  again.  Let  this  man  work  out  his  own  prob 
lem.  He  shall  not  spoil  yours  any  longer." 

"  No  man  can  hurt  me  but  myself.  That  was 
said  for  me  long  ago,"  Percival  replied.  u  My  place 
is  here.  I  shall  bridge  over  the  gulf  this  explosion 
has  made,  and  Morris  will  need  me.  It  is  poor 
friendship  that  stops  short  in  face  of  an  emergency." 

"  I  think  the  better  of  him  that  you  cleave  to  him 
so,"  Ballantyne  said.  "  Go  your  way,  then,  as  we  all 
must,  each  in  his  own  path,  but  the  place  is  ready  for 
you  if  you  will." 


joo 


BALLANTYNE 


"You  are  solid  and  sure  as  bed  rock,"  Percival 
answered,  with  a  look  of  deepest  gratitude  and  confi 
dence,  and  then,  as  a  sound  came  from  Regnault's 
room,  went  toward  it  and  motioned  Ballantyne  to 
follow. 

Regnault  accepted  his  appearance  passively,  too 
sunk  in  wretchedness  for  wonder  or  any  emotion 
outside  himself,  and  for  a  time  it  seemed  impossible 
to  rouse  him,  or  make  him  feel  the  urgent  necessity 
for  action.  It  came  at  last,  and  he  listened  attentively 
to  Ballantyne  and  his  plan  for  him. 

"  I  have  but  little  money,"  he  said.  "  It  cannot 
be  done." 

"  Here  is  all  you  want,"  Ballantyne  said,  reassur 
ingly.  "  That  need  make  no  difficulty.  Now  I  am 
going  back  to  town,  and  everything  will  be  arranged 
for  you,  so  that  you  need  have  no  trouble ;  Percival 
will  pack  everything,  and  we  shall  be  with  you  till 
you  start." 

He  spoke  as  if  to  a  child,  for  Regnault  had  caught 
his  hand,  and  looked  at  him,  his  deep  blue  eyes  large 
with  tears,  nor  till  Percival  took  his  place  was  it 
easy  to  break  away.  The  arrangements  in  town 
were  soon  made.  He  secured  a  comfortable  state 
room,  with  no  other  occupant,  for  there  were  few 
passengers  on  the  list,  and  then  sought  the  purser,  an 
alert  and  wiry  little  Frenchman,  who  promised  all 
possible  attention  to  the  partial  invalid  Ballantyne 
represented  Regnault  to  be. 

He   would   bring   him  in   the  early  afternoon  the 


BALLANTYNE  301 

next  day,  he  planned  ;  see  him  off,  for  the  hour  of 
sailing  was  at  three  o'clock,  and  then  go  on  himself 
by  boat  to  Boston,  there  being  no  other  complication 
to  which  he  owed  any  attention. 

Regnault  listened  silently  as  Ballantyne  on  his  re 
turn  told  him  that  all  arrangements  were  made,  and 
even  murmured  thanks  as  he  took  his  hand,  and  for 
a  moment  laid  it  on  his  burning  forehead. 

u  The  ocean  wind  will  blow  away  all  this  heat," 
Ballantyne  said  soothingly,  for  tears  were  running 
down  the  haggard  young  cheeks. 

"  How  shall  I  leave  him  ?  "  Regnault  said. 
"  Who  will  forgive  him  more  than  I  ?  Oh,  an 
other,  who  has  suffered  also,  knows  all.  It  may  be  as 
he  thinks  ; "  and  he  repeated  softly,  as  a  dirge,  his  old 
passion  and  force  quenched  in  weakness  and  sorrow : 

"  l  De  ces  bien  passagers  que  V  on  goute  a  demi, 
Le  meilleur  qui  nous  reste  est  un  ancien  ami. 
On  se  brouille,  on  sefuit,  qu  un  hasard  nous  rassemble, 
On  /"  approche,  on  sourit,  la  main  louche  la  main, 
Et  nous  nous  sou<venons  que  nous  marchions  ensemble, 
Que  r  ame  est  immortelle,  et  qu'hier  c''  est  demain."" 

"  Et  qu'hier  c'est  demain"  he  repeated.  "  Mais 
non,  mais  non.  II  ne  revient  plus" 

He  rose  and  began  to  gather  together  some  loose 
articles  about  the  room,  and  Ballantyne  presently  left 
him  and  went  down  to  the  late  supper,  conscious 
that  he  had  not  eaten  since  morning,  and  glad  to 
meet  the  friendly  face  of  Miss  Byers,  which  showed 
traces  of  trouble  through  its  Quaker  calm. 


302          BALLANTYNE 

"  You  were  very  good  to  come,"  she  said.  "  I 
feared  you  would  not.  It  is  a  serious  time  for  all, 
but  no  one  knows." 

"  And  no  one  will  know,"  Ballantyne  said,  reassur 
ingly.  "  There  is  not  the  slightest  reason  why  they 
should.  In  such  matters  it  is  sometimes  quite  right 
to  take  the  law  into  one's  own  hands." 

"  I  am  glad  you  believe  so,"  Miss  Byers  said.  She 
had  looked  at  him  anxiously  as  if  dreading  what  his 
reply  might  be.  "  I  feared  it  might  be  only  self- 
interest  that  spoke  in  me,  but  you  would  not  mind 
that,  I  know." 

There  was  trust  in  tone  and  look,  and  Percival 
smiled  as  his  eyes  met  Ballantyne's  with  the  same 
expression.  Supper  was  even  cheerful.  They  drew 
their  chairs  nearer  as  it  ended,  and  Ballantyne  listened 
to  Miss  Byers's  report  of  the  situation  from  the 
Quaker  point  of  view,  and  the  evasions  forced  upon 
her  by  curious  cottagers,  who  could  not  understand 
so  much  sudden  illness  in  a  proverbially  healthy  place, 
or  why  Regnault  had  completely  disappeared  from 
view. 

Clouds  had  settled  down  at  sunset,  and  a  chilly  fog 
crept  from  the  marshes  slowly  up  the  hill,  stealing  in 
at  every  opening. 

"  It  is  the  one  thing  I  do  not  like  about  the  place," 
Miss  Byers  said  at  last,  rising  to  close  the  door,  and 
pausing  with  the  knob  in  her  hand  as  the  sound  of  a 
distant  shot  was  heard.  u  Some  gunner,"  she  said. 
"  It  is  September,  and  they  will  not  leave  a  bird.  To 


BALLANTYNE  303 

shoot   at   night,   though,  —  of  course   it   can't   be  a 
gunner." 

A  sudden  change  came  over  Percival's  face. 

"  Regnault  is  alone.  He  must  not  be,"  he  said, 
and  went  quickly  to  the  stairs.  In  a  moment  he  was 
back,  and  his  face  was  pale. 

"  The  room  is  empty,"  he  said.  "  Ballantyne,  I 
ought  never  to  have  left  him." 

He  had  opened  one  door  and  another  as  he  spoke, 
and  as  each  room  showed  itself  empty,  dashed  out, 
followed  by  Ballantyne. 

"  Go  to  the  cottages,"  the  latter  said.  "  He  may 
be  there." 

"No,  he  shrunk  from  them  all,"  Percival  returned. 
"  There  is  just  one  chance,  —  the  old  summer-house 
in  the  orchard.  If  he  is  not  there,  he  is  in  the 
ravine,  for  the  sound  came  from  that  direction." 

The  two  went  together  through  the  orchard,  look 
ing  from  side  to  side  as  they  went,  with  the  vague 
hope  that  from  any  one  of  these  thickets  of  lilac  or 
syringa  the  figure  of  Regnault  might  emerge.  But 
neither  there  nor  in  any  corner  of  the  rambling 
grounds  was  there  trace  of  him,  and  they  went  on 
silently  toward  the  ravine,  pausing  only  while  Percival 
went  in  for  the  bull's-eye  lantern  hanging  by  the 
kitchen  door. 

The  ravine  lay  between  the  hill  on  which  the 
settlement  stood,  •  and  another  much  lower  one  be 
tween  them  and  the  marsh  road.  Deep  gullies  were 
on  either  side,  bare  now  save  for  overhanging,  twisted 


304  BALLANTYNE 

growth  of  wild  vines  and  shrubs,  but  where,  in  early 
spring,  the  water  ran  in  torrents.  Beyond  lay  the 
ravine,  rock-strewn  from  the  blastings  made  in  cut 
ting  down  the  hill  road,  and  filled  with  dense  under 
growth,  —  here  a  mass  of  shadow,  there  climbing  at 
will  to  fling  itself  about  the  trees  grouped  at  the  end. 
A  path  little  used  but  still  well  marked  led  through 
it,  and  Percival  went  on  swiftly  toward  the  end,  the 
light  from  the  bull's-eye  serving  only  to  intensify  the 
shadows  into  which  he  peered. 

Suddenly  at  his  feet  was  something  blacker  still, 
a  dark  heap  huddled  together ;  and  he  fell  to  his  knees 
and  turned  the  light  full  on  the  white  face,  lifting  the 
Jimp  hand  from  which  the  pistol  had  dropped,  and 
then  looking  up  in  horrified  silence  into  Ballantyne's 
face. 

"  There  is  no  sign  of  wound,"  the  latter  said,  but 
Percival  pointed  to  a  scorched  spot  on  the  breast. 

"  He  has  shot  himself  through  the  heart,"  he  said. 
"  He  must  have  died  instantly.  Good  God,  Ballan- 
tyne  !  What  will  come  of  it !  Poor,  wretched  soul ! 
Why  could  we  not  have  saved  you  from  this  ?  " 

"  Go  up  for  the  doctor  and  his  man,  and  have 
them  bring  some  sort  of  litter,"  Ballantyne  said.  "  I 
will  stay  here.  He  may  not  he  quite  dead ; "  and 
Percival  stumbled  away,  well  nigh  incapable  of  mo 
tion,  leaving  Ballantyne  kneeling  by  the  dead  man's 
side. 

"  Is  he  quite  gone  ?  "  he  asked,  when,  after  what 
seemed  long  delay,  Dr.  Prescott  came  down  the  path 


BALLANTYNE  305 

toward  him,  men  with  lanterns  and  a  litter  following 
him.  He  nodded  silently  as  his  examination  ended, 
his  set  face  giving  no  token  of  feeling  beyond  a  slight 
paleness,  and  as  silently  Ballantyne  aided  the  men  in 
lifting  and  bearing  the  body  up  the  hill. 

Morris  stood  at  the  door  as  they  approached,  and 
his  face  was  ghastly  as  that  of  the  man  he  had  sent 
to  his  death. 

"  I  will  not  have  him  brought  in  here  !  "  he  cried. 
"  Take  him  where  you  like,  but  not  here  !  " 

Ballantyne  looked  at  him  a  moment,  then  motioned 
the  men  on. 

"  Curse  you  !  "  Morris  said,  in  sudden  fury.  "  I 
tell  you  the  house  shall  not  be  polluted  with  that 
carrion.  If  he  chose  to  end  his  own  life  let  him 
take  the  consequences,  and  fare  as  suicides  should. 
The  cross  roads  and  a  stake  are  what  he  has  earned. 
He  has  brought  torment  enough  here.  Take  him 
elsewhere." 

"You  are  beside  yourself,"  Percival  said,  with 
such  sternness  as  Ballantyne  had  never  heard.  "  Till 
the  coroner  has  done  his  work,  you  have  no  word  to 
say.  Come  away." 

"  The  coroner  shall  not  be  told.  I  will  have  no 
coroner  here,"  Morris  said,  no  less  fiercely ;  but  Miss 
Byers  had  motioned  the  men  toward  the  parlor,  and 
as  they  placed  their  burden  there,  threw  over  it  the 
sheet  she  carried,  and  closed  and  locked  the  door 
behind  her.  For  a  moment  Morris  eyed  her  savagely, 
then,  yielding  to  Percival's  hand,  turned  away,  and 

20 


3o6  BALLANTYNE 

went  up  the  stairs.  She  was  trembling  from  head  to 
foot  as  the  door  closed  behind  the  pair,  and  she  looked 
at  Ballantyne. 

"  Is  he  insane  too  ?  "  she  whispered.  u  What 
shall  be  done  ?  Oh,  Mr.  Ballantyne,  don't  go  away 
till  all  this  is  over." 

u  I  will  not.  You  may  depend  upon  me,"  he  said, 
quietly.  "  It  is  my  affair  as  much  as  yours,  you 
know.  We  must  all  do  for  this  poor  boy  whatever 
there  is  left  to  do." 

For  a  moment  the  quiet  little  woman  burst  into 
sudden  tears,  choked  back  indignantly. 

"  It  is  so  sudden,  so  horrible,"  she  said,  apologeti 
cally.  "  That  is  why  I  gave  way  so.  I  must  go  to 
my  sister,  for  she  will  be  frightened.  If  you  stay, 
everything  will  be  right  as  it  can  be  now.  Can 
anything  ever  be  really  right  again  ?  " 

She  hurried  away,  and  Ballantyne,  as  he  saw  Dr. 
Prescott  approaching,  went  to  meet  him  and  question 
as  to  what  must  first  be  done.  The  doctor  had  acted 
promptly  ;  a  message  had  been  sent  to  the  coroner, 
who  fortunately  lived  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  and 
would  be  up  in  the  early  morning. 

ct  The  best  thing  for  every  one  concerned  is  a  sleep 
ing-powder,"  he  added.  u  It  is  the  only  medicine 
for  such  a  state  of  things.  I  hope  no  hint  of  it  will 
get  to  Norton.  He  was  doing  very  well  this  after 
noon,  but  the  least  excitement  would  put  him  back 
seriously." 

"  If  it  can  only  be  kept  quiet,"  Ballantyne  said. 


BALLANTYNE  307 

"  I  think  it  can  be,  if  the  coroner  has  sense.  My 
men  are  safe  enough,  for  they  have  worked  under  my 
orders  a  long  while,  and  understand  that  I  mean  what 
I  say.  Dangerous  illness  in  the  house  will  help 
things,  too,  if  Morris  can  be  induced  to  hold  his 
tongue.  At  present  he  is  a  lunatic,  and  deserves  the 
treatment  of  one.  I  wish  you  to  see  after  Percival 
and  tell  him  he  must  sleep.  He  will  go  to  pieces  if 
he  does  not." 

Professional  feeling  was  uppermost,  and  his  anxiety 
very  genuine.  Percival  came  down  as  they  talked 
together  and  easily  yielded  to  his  wish. 

"  Oblivion  for  a  while  will  be  heaven,"  he  said, 
and  he  swallowed  the  powder  Dr.  Prescott  produced, 
and  went  away  to  his  own  room,  leaving  him  to  deal 
with  Morris  if  he  could.  Ballantyne  refused  any 
sedative.  To  sleep  in  the  house  seemed  impossible, 
and  he  wandered  up  and  down  the  old  road,  lost  in 
pity  and  in  awe  over  the  swift  passage  of  the  tor 
mented  spirit.  What  way  had  it  gone,  blown  by  the 
viewless,  elemental  wind  ;  or  did  it  linger  still,  vainly 
seeking  re-entrance  to  this  shattered  house  of  life  ? 
Would  he  cling  still  to  the  man  he  had  worshipped, 
and  be  for  him  now  a  presence  neither  word  nor  will 
could  put  aside ;  or  had  clearer  vision  already  come 
and  made  him  know  that  self  is  inescapable  and  for 
ever  the  eternal  judge  of  self? 

Wandering  up  and  down,  the  tension  still  too 
strong  for  sleep,  his  thought  turned  at  last,  as 
always,  toward  the  centre  of  every  thought  and 


3oS  BALLANTYNE 

desire,  and  now  the  longing  for  speech  came  upon 
him. 

"  I  will  write,"  he  thought.  "  The  year  is  almost 
over ;  will  be  over  when  she  receives  it.  A  strange 
time  for  this  first  word,  but  it  must  be.  I  cannot 
wait." 

He  went  softly  to  his  room,  and  for  an  hour  or 
two  wrote  steadily  till  gray  dawn  was  in  the  sky, 
then  folding  the  sheets  sealed  them  in  their  envelope, 
and  lying  down  fell  into  troubled  sleep,  ending  so 
heavily  that  he  knew  nothing  more  till  steps  and 
voices  sounded  below  him,  and  he  woke  to  find  the 
sunshine  of  late  morning  lying  across  the  floor. 


Chapter    Tenth 


BALLANTYNE     lingered     in     his    room, 
shrinking  from    facing    again  the  horror 
of   yesterday,    till,    reproaching    himself 
for  selfish  cowardice,  he  went  down  to 
the  dining-room,  to   find  that  the  legal  forms  were 
already   over.     Percival,  aided  by   Dr.   Prescott,  had 
managed  matters  so  admirably  that  their  own  testi 
mony  had  sufficed,  and  the  verdict  of  "  suicide  while 
temporarily    insane "    gave    the    answer    to     outside 
questioners. 

For  his  own  sake,  and  to  do  all  honor  to  the  name, 
they  would  have  had  the  funeral  from  the  house,  but 
Norton's  low  delirium  continued  still,  and,  fearful 
of  its  effect,  Ballantyne  gave  the  body  into  the  under 
taker's  hands,  with  charge  of  all  possible  honor  and 
observance  for  the  poor  clay.  With  his  own  hand 
he  cut  a  lock  or  two  from  the  fair  head,  touching  it 
tenderly  for  the  love  that  had  been  there,  and  glad 
that  the  dead  face  showed  quiet  and  peaceful  as  life 
had  never  known  it. 

In  spite  of  every  care  some  apprehension  of  what 
had  happened  seemed  to  have  crept  into  the  room 
where  Norton  lay,  for  often  he  cried  out  Regnault's 


3io  BALLANTYNE 

name,  and  turned  away  in  terror  as  Morris  with 
passionate  tenderness  bent  over  him.  For  the  most 
part  he  lay  with  half-closed  eyes,  muttering  unintelli 
gible  words  or  snatches  of  verse,  the  fever  burning 
steadily  and  the  wound  refusing  to  heal.  Yet  in 
spite  of  this,  general  symptoms  were  slightly  better, 
and  Dr.  Prescott,  who  had  sought  in  vain  to  replace 
Morris  by  a  trained  nurse,  admitted  that  there  was  no 
further  danger,  and  that  the  care  had  been  admirable. 

"  Where  he  learned  it  I  don't  know,"  Dr.  Prescott 
said,  as  they  watched  the  gloomy  wagon  making  its 
way  down  the  hill.  "  But  he  has  nursed  him  like  a 
woman,  and  a  wise  one  at  that." 

"  I  can  tell  you,"  Percival  said.  "  He  had  an  ill 
ness  of  many  months  himself,  the  only  one  in  his  life, 
and  his  sister-in-law  nursed  him.  He  has  spoken  of 
it  sometimes,  and  her  devotion  and  thoroughness  as 
something  he  believed  only  a  Scotchwoman  could 
manifest.  He  was  living  in  Edinburgh  then,  and 
could  look  out  always,  as  he  lay,  on  Arthur's  Seat, 
and  it  was  in  talking  of  the  effect  of  mountains  on 
the  spirit  that  he  first  mentioned  her  to  me." 

"  It  is  an  unexpected  side,"  Dr.  Prescott  said, 
meditatively,  "and  when  it  is  over,  he  will  go  to 
pieces  himself.  He  carries  a  volcano  inside  there. 
I  thought  him  pure  intellect,  and  he  is  like  a  pas 
sionate  undisciplined  boy  and  woman  mixed  up 
together." 

He  turned  away  with  a  sigh,  and  Percival  looked 
after  him,  with  a  little  shake  of  the  head. 


BALLANTYNE  311 

"  That  man  has  a  curiously  offensive  personality," 
he  said,  "  a  kind  of  intellectual  leopard,  but  what 
good  there  is  in  him  seems  uppermost  at  present." 

"  Yes,  but  it  is  Morris  he  thinks  of  rather  than 
Norton,"  Ballantyne  answered.  "  I  should  say  that 
aside  from  professional  instinct,  which  is  fairly  strong, 
he  detests  the  poor,  young  fellow.  The  kind  of  affec 
tion  Morris  awakens  seems  to  include  all  evil  passions 
for  everybody  else,  always  excepting  yourself,  Percival. 
I  shall  always  tolerate  him  for  your  sake." 

Percival  was  silent.  Loyalty  was  still  strong,  and 
would  keep  him  so,  but  Ballantyne  knew  that  the  re 
peated  shocks  of  these  later  days,  if  they  had  not 
entirely  dislodged  the  idol  from  his  niche,  had  at  least 
disclosed  feet  of  clay,  and  rendered  continued  uncriti 
cal  faith  and  worship  forever  impossible. 

"  I  have  only  an  hour  or  two  more,"  Ballantyne 
said  presently,  as  Percival,  who  had  sat  with  head 
leaning  on  his  hand,  turned  to  him  at  last.  u  Can  I 
help  you  at  all  with  poor  Regnault's  matters  ?  Some 
one  must  write  to  his  friends,  and  here  is  the  little 
packet  of  hair.  I  hope  his  mother  is  not  living." 

"  She  is,  and  worships  him,"  Percival  said,  rising. 
"  A  letter  came  from  her  this  morning.  I  knew  the 
writing,  for  he  has  shown  me  some  of  them.  He 
wrote  the  address  last  night,  and  left  it  lying  there  on 
the  table  by  this  box  of  photographs." 

"  It  is  not  possible  he  knew  all  these  people," 
Ballantyne  said  in  amazement,  for  the  long  box  held 
certainly  two  hundred,  and  they  were  tossed  in  as  if 


312 


B ALLANTYNE 


some  one  had  grown  weary  of  examining  them,  and 
piled  all  in  at  once. 

"  They  are  Morris's,"  Percival  returned.  "  Poor 
Regnault  had  a  fancy  that  he  could  make  out  the 
story  of  his  life  from  these  faces,  and  often  looked 
them  over  in  the  study.  He  would  make  up  groups, 
and  say  to  Morris,  c  These  belong  together.  You 
knew  them  when  you  felt  or  thought  so  and  so;' 
and  Morris  sometimes  looked  at  him  almost  aghast. 
1  You  are  a  diviner  of  spirits,'  he  said  more  than  once. 
c  How  is  it  that  you  know  the  thing  that  was  ?  ' 
Day  before  yesterday  Regnault  asked  for  them,  and  I 
brought  them  to  him,  but  he  soon  tossed  them  aside. 
I  must  straighten  them,  for  Morris's  sense  of  order 
is  so  strong  that  the  look  of  that  thing  would  distress 
him  seriously." 

"  I  will  do  it,"  Ballantyne  said,  and  sat  down  by 
the  table,  finding,  as  he  turned  them  out,  a  congrega 
tion  that  might  well  have  stirred  the  curiosity  and 
interest  of  the  most  indifferent.  Many  were  dated, 
and  with  the  giver's  signature;  names  familiar  in 
letters  and  art,  from  modern  Greek,  through  the 
whole  gamut  of  nationalities.  Now  and  then  he 
paused  to  look  at  one  more  attractive  than  the  rest, 
and  said  to  himself,  "  Are  you  still  untouched  fruit,  or 
only  a  husk  of  some  cast  aside  relation  ?  "  For  the 
most  part  he  shuffled  them  quickly  into  orderly 
packets,  but  suddenly  his  face  changed  and  a  slight 
exclamation  escaped  him.  Percival  turned  and  saw 
that  he  held  two  of  the  photographs  in  his  hand  ; 


BALLANTYNE  313 

one  a  small  card  and  one  of  the  early  specimens  of 
the  art,  dark  and  imperfect,  yet  still  bearing  evident 
relationship  to  the  later  and  larger  one,  with  a  date 
of  ten  years  after,  and  the  familiar  name  of  a  London 
photographer  on  Oxford  Street. 

"  Do  you  know  the  names  of  the  unsigned  por 
traits  ?  "  Ballantyne  asked. 

"  A  good  many  of  them ;  yes,"  Percival  said.  "  It 
.is  a  fact  that  the  story  of  Morris's  life  is,  just  as 
Regnault  fancied  it,  in  that  box.  These  two  I  know 
well.  They  are  portraits  of  the  girl  and  later  the 
woman  to  whom  he  was  engaged,  and  who  is,  I 
think,  still  living  ;  but  he  has  never  told  me  her  name, 
for  which  I  am  very  glad,  as  he  tells  most  things,  and 
this  was  by  no  means  his." 

"  They  are  like  an  acquaintance  of  mine,"  Ballan 
tyne  said  indifferently,  and  laid  them  with  the  rest; 
but  Percival  noticed  that  the  surprised  look  did  not 
at  once  leave  his  face,  and  that  he  sat  for  a  few 
minutes  lost  in  thought. 

There  was  reason.  The  face  in  the  two  portraits 
was  that  of  Barbara  Ryde,  and  the  later  one,  precisely 
as  she  had  been  in  his  earliest  recollection  of  her. 
How  she  would  rage  at  knowing  it  here  in  this  mass 
of  accumulation,  turned  over  by  strange  hands,  and 
commented  on  by  strange  tongues.  With  Morris's 
effusive  tendencies,  what  security  was  there  that  the 
name  might  not,  in  any  sudden  burst  of  confidence, 
become  as  common  property  as  the  portraits  ?  For 
a  moment  his  hand  moved  toward  them.  The  tempta- 


3i4  BALLANTYNE 

tion  was  strong  to  take  possession  and  at  once  destroy. 
As  her  lifelong  friend  he  had  the  right.  Then  he 
checked  himself,  but  the  mystery  was  as  confounding 
as  each  new  phase  of  the  owner's  character. 

One  question  followed  another.  How  had  he 
known  her,  and  where,  and  if  acknowledged  lover, 
how  could  it  be  that  no  hint  had  ever  been  given 
him  by  any  of  the  old  friends,  who  must  have 
known  ?  It  might,  however,  have  been  quite  in 
secret,  and  as  he  thought  he  settled  in  his  own 
mind  that  this  would  be  Morris's  method.  It  was 
even  possible  that  beyond  themselves  no  one  had 
known,  but  he  resented  fiercely  the  shameful  obtuse- 
ness  that  kept  the  photographs  there,  and  the  more 
shameful  self-revealment  that  lay  in  his  confession  of 
what  phase  of  life  they  represented.  Evidently  her 
fortune  had  had  no  weight  with  him,  a  thing  quite 
in  harmony  with  all  his  theories  as  to  money. 

He  looked  up  at  last  to  find  Percival's  eyes  fixed 
upon  him. 

"There  is  many  a  type  of  woman  in  that  box,  and 
you  puzzle  over  them  evidently  as  Regnault  did,"  he 
said.  "  Morris's  tastes  are  very  catholic.  There  is 
a  streak  of  Goethe  in  him.  In  fact  he  often  seems 
to  me  a  repetition  of  him  in  many  ways.  He  is  an 
experimenter  by  instinct,  and  he  looks  at  each  fresh 
case  in  an  almost  purely  impersonal  sort  of  way,  as 
common  men  cannot." 

ct  Thank  Heaven,  they  have  not  reached  his  stage 
of  development !  "  Ballantyne  said,  bitterly.  u  Per- 


BALLANTYNE  315 

cival,  I  shall  say  nothing  to  you  that  I  am  not  ready 
to  say  to  his  face,  but  I  wish  I  could  make  you  drop 
the  whole  thing.  You  do  not  belong  here,  and  you 
never  will.  You  need  not  answer.  This  is  the  last 
impulse  to  which  I  mean  to  yield,  but  believe  me,  I 
have  reason  on  my  side,  and  never  more  so  than  at 
this  moment." 

u  Whatever  is  to  be  makes  its  own  path,"  Percival 
said,  and  his  look  seemed  to  carry  assurance  that  fear 
for  him  need  not  be  felt. 

Ballantyne,  after  the  work  of  packing  ended,  sat 
down  by  the  table,  and  wrote  to  Regnault's  mother 
a  letter  which,  in  his  own  mind,  was  equally  for  the 
sad-hearted  girl  who  had  loved  him,  telling  the  story 
in  the  gentlest  phrase  that  came,  but  finding  no 
words  that  could  make  it  anything  but  the  horror  it 
must  always  represent.  When  he  ended,  the  hour 
for  leaving  had  already  come,  was  even  slightly  past. 
He  made  no  attempt  to  see  Morris,  glad  even  that 
the  sick-room  held  him  fast,  and  prevented  words 
which  he  was  far  too  worn  and  too  unbalanced  to 
hear,  but  which  must  some  day  be  spoken. 

"  I  must  go  with  you,"  Percival  said,  after  he  had 
given  a  hasty  good-bye  to  Miss  Byers.  "  I  must  have 
the  last  possible  bit  of  you,  unless  you  had  rather  go 
alone." 

"  Not  I,"  Ballantyne  replied.  "  You  could  do  only 
one  thing  more  satisfactory,  and  that  is  to  come  all  the 
way." 

Percival  smiled  silently,  and  the  two  made  their  way 


316  BALLANTYNE 

down  the  hill,  speaking  but  little,  but  each  glad  of  the 
other's  companionship.  They  had  reached  the  turn, 
and  for  a  moment  Ballantyne  paused,  looking  down  to 
the  sordid  town  below,  and  back  toward  the  old  house. 

A  figure  ran  down  the  road  and  waved  its  arms,  and 
as  it  drew  nearer  he  saw  that  it  was  Morris.  Percival 
too  had  turned,  and  looked  apprehensively  toward  him. 

"  There  is  something  wrong,"  he  said.  "  Perhaps 
Norton  is  worse,"  and  went  swiftly  back  toward  him. 
Ballantyne  hesitated,  then  followed,  and  came  face  to 
face  with  Morris,  breathless  from  running  and  for  the 
minute  incapable  of  speech.  His  eyes  were  on  Bal- 
lantyne's  face  with  a  directness  he  had  never  seen 
there,  and  he  faced  him  with  a  dignity  equally  unfa 
miliar. 

"  You  sail  on  Saturday,  I  am  told,"  he  said,  "  and 
yet  you  were  going  with  no  word  for  me.  Have  I 
earned  that  at  your  hands  ? " 

"You  were  shut  in  the  sick-room,"  Ballantyne 
began. 

"  Bah  !"  Morris  broke  in.  "  The  sick-room  had  no 
barricade.  No ;  you  did  not  wish  to  see  me.  Stay, 
Percival,"  as  Percival  made  a  motion  of  retreat. 
"  You  too  are  disaffected,  and  it  is  my  right  to  know 
how  and  why.  Sit  here,"  he  added,  pointing  to  a  log 
lying  on  the  side  of  the  road,  and  screened  by  a  wild 
grapevine  which  hung  in  long  festoons  from  the  tree 
at  one  side.  "  You  may  never  return,  Ballantyne.  I 
have  the  right  to  ask  why  you,  a  righteous  man,  are 
willing  to  wrong  me  ?  " 


BALLANTYNE  317 

"  Have  I  wronged  you  ?  "  Ballantyne  said  gently, 
for  in  spite  of  full  conviction,  as  he  looked  at  him, 
sympathy  and  pity  both  were  strong.  "  I  have 
taken  what  came  from  yourself  and  drawn  inevitable 
conclusions.  That  is  all.  Any  wrong  it  lies  with 
you  to  right." 

u  There  is  no  wrong,"  said  Morris,  passionately. 
"  Why  do  you  not'  comprehend  that  this  wild  creature 
who  has  gone  to  his  grave  went  there  because  he  had 
in  him  nothing  solid  or  sound  enough  to  save  him  ? 
Do  you  think  I  had  no  interest  in  his  peace  or  life  ? 
I  would  have  given  my  own  for  his  till  I  found  that 
the  stuff  I  thought  in  him  was  but  foam  on  the  wave. 
It  is  workers  I  seek ;  not  creatures  whose  will  is  a 
thread  and  whose  thoughts  are  a  bubble.  He  had 
emotions  and  passions.  He  had  not  one  gift  that 
meant  conquest  of  self  or  of  right  life.  Why  should 
I  not  turn  to  the  one  who  possesses  all  ?  Who  will 
reward  any  sacrifice  I  can  make,  and  who  might  live 
to  carry  out  the  thought  I  cannot  yet  make  permanent 
in  any  mind  ?  Why  do  you  count  me  traitor  and  brute 
because  I  will  not  gloss  things,  but  tell  you  in  honest 
words  my  honest  thought  ?  I  believed  you,  Ballantyne, 
a  man  with  more  discerning  eyes." 

His  face  was  calm  and  serious,  his  tone  no  less  so, 
and  Ballantyne  looked  at  him  in  profoundest  amaze 
ment.  What  man  was  this  in  him  that  had  risen  up 
to  arraign  his  just  accusers,  and  with  a  faith  in  himself 
so  certain  that  it  placed  them  at  the  bar,  and  held  them 
dumb  before  him  ? 


318  BALLANTYNE 

"  We  can  gain  nothing  by  arguing  it,"  Ballantyne 
said  at  last.  u  We  look  at  things  from  utterly  differ 
ent  standpoints.  To  me  loyalty  is  a  prime  virtue. 
To  you  it  seems  to  bear  another  name,  if  I  may  judge 
by  what  I  know  of  your  life." 

u  I  am  as  loyal  as  you,"  Morris  said,  solemnly  ;  "  but 
I  am  loyal  to  the  ideal,  not  to  the  individual.  It  is 
truth  I  seek,  and  beauty,  which  is  truth.  If  I  believe 
I  have  found  it  and  then  come  to  know  myself  mis 
taken,  shall  I  dishonor  that  ideal  by  cleaving  to  its 
corpse  till  it  festers  in  my  arms  ?  I  am  neither  fickle 
nor  disloyal.  I  seek  the  highest,  —  the  trinity  in  which 
beauty  and  love  and  truth  are  one." 

"  I  cannot  deny  that  you  may  believe  this,"  Ballan 
tyne  said,  after  a  silence  in  which  Morris  had  looked 
at  him  steadily.  "But  it  is  an  unhappy  fact  that  those 
who  look  on  use  more  practical  interpretations,  and 
have  other  definitions  of  your  course.  I  will  not  judge 
you.  Your  power  would  always  draw  me,  but  your 
ethics  I  am  incapable  of  comprehending.  You  read 
aloud  letters  sacredly  and  only  your  own.  At  this 
very  moment,  where  any  and  all  may  turn  over  the 
piles,  and  comment  at  will,  you  keep  the  face  of  a 
woman  who  must  have  loved  you  well  to  give  it  at  all, 
and  you  do  not  hesitate  to  tell  the  story.  She  is  my 
friend,  and  I  regard  it  as  the  final  touch  of  obtuseness 
and  disloyalty  in  a  character  as  complex  as  a  kaleido 
scope  and  as  shifting." 

u  So  !  "  Morris  said  in  surprise,  but  his  eyes  did 
not  fall.  "That  was  a  youthful  blunder ;  an  infat- 


BALLANTYNE  319 

uation  that  slowly  took  its  rightful  place.  I  keep 
the  memory  as  warning." 

"  Then  let  it  be  memory  only,"  Ballantyne  said, 
sternly ;  "  and  for  decency's  sake  destroy  what  may 
be  yours,  but  is  certainly  no  other's." 

"  I  see  a  little  how  it  might  strike  you,"  Morris 
said,  as  if  the  admission  must  necessarily  condone  all 
offence. 

Ballantyne's  eyes  rested  on  him  steadily,  but  Mor 
ris  did  not  flinch.  Never  had  he  carried  himself 
more  nobly,  never  had  Ballantyne  felt  the  extraordi 
nary  power  he  owned,  as  now  in  finally  rejecting  his 
mission  and  denying  his  claim  to  fellowship. 

"  My  life  is  before  all,  and  you  know  it,"  Morris 
said  in  his  quietest  tone,  his  eyes  dark  with  emotion. 
u  I  hide  not  one  of  its  acts.  I  repeat  again,  I  want 
no  concealments." 

"  Other  people  are  not  so  fortunately  constituted." 

u  I  care  not  one  whit  for  the  usual  code.  Why 
should  I  ?  Its  foundations  are  false,  and  its  practical 
action  no  less  so." 

"  That  may  be,"  Ballantyne  returned,  "  but  you 
will  fare  alone  if  your  path  does  not  change  its 
course." 

u  It  is  true,  but  one  has  had  real  knowledge," 
Morris  said,  motioning  toward  Percival,  who  had  left 
them  after  the  first  few  words,  and  now  paced  up  and 
down  waiting  for  the  conversation  to  end.  "  There 
goes  one  who  never  doubted,  nor  could  have  done 
if  any  nature  less  strong  than  yours  had  shown  faith- 


J20  BALLANTYNE 

lessness.      Because    you   are    sceptical,   must    I    lose 
him  ?  " 

"Any  truth  in  you  commands  him  still,"  said  Bal- 
lantyne,  and  now  he  rose.  "  I  am  not  your  enemy, 
Morris,  however  distinctly  I  disbelieve  some  of  your 
theories  as  well  as  some  of  your  practice.  There 
have  been  many  times  when  I  accepted  and  honored 
both.  You  must  work  out  your  own  problems  no 
less  than  I  mine.  Use  Percival's  eyes,  and  you  may 
find  clearer  light  than  your  own  always  receive." 

"  But  you  are  taking  him  from  me." 

"  On  the  contrary,  he  refuses  to  leave  you,  well  as 
I  incline  to  think  it  might  be  for  him.  Guard  his 
faith  more  thoroughly  than  you  have  that  of  others, 
for  if  you  do  not,  you  deserve  perdition." 

"  You  are  right,"  Morris  answered,  quietly.  "  It  is 
a  nature  of  the  gods.  He  shall  not  be  hurt.  And  I 
give  you  my  word  that  this  is  the  last  hour  the  two 
photographs  have  existence.  I  burn  them  when  I  go 
back.  Will  that  content  you  ?  " 

He  put  out  his  hand,  and  Ballantyne  took  it  and 
looked  again  into  the  inscrutable  eyes  of  this  mystery. 
Then  Morris  grew  very  pale,  threw  his  arms  about 
him,  pressed  him  close,  and  in  a  moment  was  speed 
ing  up  the  hill  and  past  Percival,  who  turned  and 
came  on.  Ballantyne,  too  deeply  moved  for  words, 
walked  silently  beside  him  for  a  time. 

"  You  are  right,  Percival,"  he  said  at  last.  "  Cleave 
to  him.  Mysterious  complexity  as  he  is,  the  good 
must  some  day  come  uppermost.  The  man  of  to- 


BALLANTYNE  321 

day  in  him  is  only  a  veneer.  Underneath  he  is,  as 
I  was  told,  pagan,  Greek,  and  mediaeval  monk,  and 
the  ill-joined  trinity  will  not  dissolve  for  any  will  of 
yours  or  mine.  I  could  not  have  believed  I  should 
part  with  him  so  kindly." 

He  took  out  his  watch  as  he  spoke,  and  shook 
his  head.  "  It  must  be  a  train,  after  all,"  he  said. 
"  There  is  no  time  for  a  five  o'clock  boat." 

"  If  you  prefer  boat  so  decidedly,"  Percival  said, 
"there  are  Providence  ones,  that  Morris  often  goes 
by.  The  docks  are  near,  and  they  do  not  leave  till 
six." 

"  A  sleeping-car  is  something  I  cannot  tolerate," 
Ballantyne  said.  "  A  state-room  to  myself  recon 
ciles  me  to  slower  methods.  There  is  our  car,  Per 
cival.  We  must  run  a  bit  if  we  are  not  to  lose  it," 
and  the  two  made  all  haste  toward  the  station. 


21 


Chapter    Eleventh 


~^k  Y  the  way,"  Percival  said,  as  the  car  came 

•  ^^  in  sight,  u  I  had  quite  forgotten  this 
M  packet  which  Miss  Byers  asked  me  this 

™  morning  to  hand  you  as  you  left.  Good 

soul  !  Thank  Heaven  she  is  there,  and  all  her  Quaker 
common  sense  with  her  !  And  now,  Ballantyne,  best 
of  fellows,  all  good  go  with  you.  Good-bye." 

He  wrung  Ballantyne's  hand  as  he  spoke,  his  clear 
eyes  full  of  sorrow,  then  turned  and  went  slowly  up 
the  hill. 

Ballantyne  took  his  place  in  the  grimy  car,  the  sole 
passenger,  for  at  that  hour  the  tide  of  travel  sets  out, 
not  in,  and  after  a  moment  untied  the  little  packet, 
finding  within  it  a  heavy  envelope  addressed  to  him 
in  Morris's  minute  but  very  clear  and  beautiful  hand 
writing,  and  sealed  with  the  lion's-head  ring  he  always 
wore.  For  an  instant  he  was  moved  to  tear  the  thing 
to  shreds,  and  scatter  them  in  the  wind.  Instinct  told 
him  what  lay  within,  —  a  confidence  from  which  he 
recoiled,  its  nature  already  a  matter  of  full  belief. 

"  Woman  to  the  end  in  every  method,"  he  said, 
half  aloud,  u  and  I  no  less  so  in  opening  the  seal  the 
breaking  of  which  binds  me  to  silence." 


BALLANTYNE  323 

For  an  instant  he  hesitated,  then  unfolded  the 
closely  written  sheets  and  read  : 

"  There  is  no  doubt  in  my  mind,  —  there  has  been 
none  since  the  first  hour  of  our  meeting  that  you 
have  guessed  it ;  yet  why  you,  when  a  hundred  others 
in  closer  relation  have  never  one  moment  suspected  ? 
I  saw  in  your  eyes  the  flash  of  certainty  as  you  looked 
across  that  dinner  table  noting  some  betrayal  of  which 
I  was  and  am  unconscious.  Yet  I  have  studied 
my  part.  I  had  need.  The  man  in  his  natural,  in 
voluntary  expression  from  priest  to  porter  I  have 
watched,  till  I  know  every  movement,  voluntary  and 
involuntary.  I  learned  my  part,  and  I  have  played  it 
successfully. 

"  Understand  that  I  make  no  excuses.  Why 
should  I  ?  Life  was  mine  to  live  as  I  chose.  It 
held  a  mission,  and  that  mission  I  knew  almost  from 
childhood.  It  was  my  right  to  choose  the  garb  in 
which  it  could  most  easily  fulfil  itself.  Nor  did  I 
elect  to  follow  in  the  steps  of  George  Sand  or  Rosa 
Bonheur,  the  woman  always  in  evidence,  always  to 
be  recognized.  I  had  work  to  do  that  meant  the 
abolition  of  the  woman  —  the  utmost  development 
of  all  the  masculine;  that,  happily  for  my  plan,  had 
been  given  me  in  abundant  measure.  The  founda 
tion  for  the  whole  my  father  laid  himself.  Dour  Pres 
byterian  as  he  was,  he  had  been  trained.  No  man 
alive  better  knew  Greek  than  he,  and  Plato's  Repub 
lic  forever  jostled  in  his  brain  the  doctrine  of  election, 
and  the  catechism  I  learned  with  my  Greek  grammar. 


BALLANTYNE 


My  mother  died  in  childbed  when  I  was  not  quite 
two  years  old,  leaving  a  man-child,  who  is  as  feminine 
as  I  am  not,  and  my  father,  who  had  loved  her,  went 
into  retreat,  —  a  desolate  house  on  a  desolate  moor  ; 
not  a  neighbor,  and  visited  by  the  carrier  once  a 
week. 

"  There  it  was  that  we  were  brought  up,  dressed 
alike  and  faring  alike,  though  Donald  with  all  his 
courage  was  weak  as  a  baby  compared  to  my  strength. 
I  was  a  sturdy  animal;  but  from  the  beginning  I  had 
thoughts  of  my  own,  and  never  feared  to  tell  them. 
My  father  knew  the  world  even  while  seeing  it 
through  Presbyterian  eyes.  There  had  been  a  day 
when  he  was  not  Presbyterian,  and  the  old  experi 
ence  did  him  good  service  at  times.  He  told  me  its 
methods,  and  I  have  found  no  error  in  his  judgment. 
Well  for  me  that  I  drank  in  his  teaching  as  eagerly 
as  he  gave  it.  Well  for  me  that  he  believed  in  the 
physical  as  well  as  the  spiritual  and  mental  side  of 
life,  and  studied  St.  Martin  side  by  side  with  the 
catechism.  Well  for  me,  yet  whether  well  or  ill  in 
the  conflict  that  came,  no  man  can  settle,  not  I  my 
self  even,  till,  it  may  be,  another  reincarnation,  if  such 
there  be,  puts  me  where  I  justly  belong,  or  gives  me 
better  power  to  endure  the  mismating  of  soul  and 
body  in  this. 

u  Dressed  as  a  boy  from  the  beginning,  side  by  side 
with  Donald,  leading  him  in  all  sports,  governing 
him  till  he  had  no  will  but  mine,  my  father's  refrain, 
4  Puir  lassie  !  Only  a  lassie,  after  all  !  '  as  I  grew 


BALLANTYNE  325 

older,  irritated,  outraged,  stimulated  every  power  in 
me.  At  sixteen  he  said  to  me,  c  The  time  has  come 
for  return  to  other  ways.  1  have  given  you  all  that 
the  woman-child  never  gets.  We  must  see  now 
what  it  may  mean.  I  have  been  wrong,  maybe.  It 
is  certain  the  world  would  say  so,  and  that  the  devil 
had  guided  my  course,  and  turned  you  toward  perdi 
tion.  I  myself  am  doubting  why  I  did  it.' 

"  His  eyes  were  heavy.  I  had  heard  him  walking 
the  floor  of  nights,  but  no  man  dared  go  near  him 
then.  Donald  was  nearly  ready  for  Aberdeen,  his 
college  and  mine.  He  had  small  brain  compared 
with  me,  but  he  is  no  fool.  My  father  had  been 
watching  us  both,  and  it  was  grief  to  him  that  I  could 
not  be  the  boy.  I  was  old  always  even  when  a  child. 
I  had  thoughts,  and  my  will  was  fixed.  c  My  life  is 
my  own,'  I  said  to  him.  '  My  mind  is  clear  to  me.  I 
shall  go  up  with  Donald  when  the  time  comes,  and 
I  shall  go  as  your  son.  The  work  I  am  born  to  do 
is  not  for  woman.  I  will  see  for  myself  what  my 
soul  means,  with  no  draggle  of  petticoats  or  binding 
of  ribbons  to  stay  my  course.' 

"  c  You  will  do  what  I  bid  you,'  he  said.  c  There 
is  reason,  though,  for  the  tone  you  take.  I  myself  am 
responsible  for  it.  I  will  think  again,  and  in  time 
tell  you.  There  is  no  haste,  after  all.  You  are  to 
remember  that  you  are  on  the  parish  register  as  Jean 
Pendleton  Morris,  and  your  mother  is  never  to  be 
shamed  by  you.'  '  But  Jean  is  a  man's  name  in 
France,'  I  said.  '  Let  me  go  to  France  a  while,  and 


326  BALLANTYNE 

then  it  will  be  easy  for  other  things  to  happen.' 
'  Foolish  lass,'  he  said,  but  there  was  a  look  that 
meant  a  thought.  '  There  is  a  blunder  somehow, 
but  you  are  too  young  for  more  words  about  it  now. 
Double  you  are,  but  double  must  be  undone.  God 
knows  if  I  have  done  right  by  you,  but  I  did  not  mind 
how  the  time  was  passing.  It 's  your  bigness  that, 
somehow,  I  never  saw  really  till  this  day.  My  grand 
mother  was  big  like  you,  —  five  feet  ten,  —  and  strong, 
with  a  man's  strength.  It 's  all  a  puzzle.'  He  went 
to  his  room,  and  locked  the  door.  I  knew  a  battle 
might  come,  though,  hard  as  he  was,  we  had  never 
had  one.  I  had  always  been  curious  to  find  out  all 
he  knew,  to  see  what  he  had  seen,  to  question  his 
views.  The  kirk  even,  where  we  went  at  long  inter 
vals,  was  no  trouble  to  me.  I  liked  the  stiff  argument 
that  might  have  made  trouble,  and  bothered  none  over 
what  it  stood  for,  so  that  to  him  I  seemed  of  one 
mind  with  him. 

"  He  was  in  his  room  all  that  day  eating  naught, 
but  at  night  he  came  out,  and  took  his  supper  quietly, 
with  long  looks  at  Donald,  who  was  slim  and  sloping 
of  shoulder.  We  read  that  evening  Homer.  He 
loved  the  roll  of  the  Greek,  and  I  hardly  less.  I  love 
it  to-day,  and  shall  till  I  die,  and  after.  He  turned 
when  he  had  said  good  night.  '  I  give  you  another 
year  as  you  will,'  he  said.  c  Beyond  that  there  is  no 
going.  Donald  is  heir  and  head  of  the  house,  and  in 
the  order  of  nature  you  must  presently  be  ruled  by 
him.' 


BALLANTYNE  327 

u  I  turned  my  head  not  to  show  him  I  smiled.  Not 
man's  law  nor  the  Lord  Himself  could  have  made  me 
subject  to  Donald,  and  he  knew  it.  '  We  are  to 
have  a  change,'  he  went  on.  '  I  shall  take  you  where 
I  went  in  my  own  youth,  —  to  the  Breton  coast. 
They  are  a  hardy  folk,  and  you  shall  know  them  as 
I  know  them.' 

"  In  a  week  we  were  gone  ;  Angus  left  in  charge,  a 
doddering  old  man  that  knew  naught  but  how  to  serve. 
There  we  lived  out  the  year,  and  I  learned  how  to 
handle  a  boat  and  fish  with  the  best  of  them.  I 
lived  with  the  fisher-folk  till  I  knew  every  turn  and 
twist  of  their  minds  —  could  even  be  one  of  them. 
And  a  Breton  maid  loved  me  well,  and  I  came  to  the 
knowledge  of  a  man's  way  with  a  maid,  and  in  pure 
experiment,  meaning  no  harm,  copied  the  way,  and 
laughed  as  I  saw  that  I,  a  maid,  had  power  to  bring 
a  blush  and  a  smile  that  women  have  not  for  women. 
It  was  there  that  my  father  taught  me  the  value  of 
money,  —  my  first  lesson.  Small  use,  for  it  is  true  in 
that  simple  life,  but  more  than  I  had  ever  known  ;  and 
he  told  me  of  my  mother's  little  fortune  that  was 
mine,  and  to  be  handled  by  me  when  I  was  eighteen, 
—  a  year  between  me  and  the  right  to  do  as  I  would. 
4  Ah,  but  to  see  you  at  Aberdeen  !  '  he  said,  and  it 
was  like  a  groan.  c  But  that  will  never  be.'  c  It 
will  be,'  I  said  under  my  breath ;  '  but  I  bide  a  while. 
It  will  come.' 

"  The  year  was  well  over.  We  had  studied  with 
him  and  with  a  Breton  priest  who  would  fain  have 


328  BALLANTYNE 

made  us  Catholic.  My  father  said  naught  of  home. 
He  liked  the  life,  and  it  kept  away  thought.  And 
now  we  began  to  beg  for  travel  and  sight  of  the 
world  he  knew,  Donald  and  me,  and  he  yielded. 
We  went  to  Rome  first,  meaning  to  know  all  Italy  ; 
but  he  was  too  eager  mulling  among  the  ruins  to  go 
farther.  And  there,  when  the  year  was  nearly  done, 
he  died,  in  a  day  as  it  were,  the  Roman  fever  smoul 
dering  and  working  in  his  blood  for  weeks,  till  with 
one  burst  of  it  he  was  snuffed  out.  I  was  eighteen 
the  day  they  buried  him. 

u  You  will  see  well  now  why  I  have  told  the  story 
of  those  eighteen  years.  You  feel  how  life  hence 
forward  must  have  been  what  I  willed  it.  Donald 
saw  with  my  eyes.  If  I  chose  to  go  through  the 
course  with  him  so  much  the  better.  From  that  point 
on,  I  need  trouble  you  with  few  more  details.  I  took 
my  degree  cum  laude.  I  carried  everything  before 
me,  and  when  I  had  taken  it  I  bound  Donald  by  an 
oath  never  to  reveal  that  I  was  a  woman,  and  he 
took  it  as  easily  as  he  did  all  I  ordered.  We  had  a 
friend  in  common,  —  a  man  with  a  huge  ambition 
and  a  leaning  toward  Catholicism.  Never  was  state 
lier  head  on  human  shoulders,  never  a  creature  that 
held  more  power  and  more  gentleness.  I  loved  him 
first  as  men  love.  We  were  good  comrades.  In 
time  I  loved  him  as  women  love,  and  I,  sworn  to  the 
life  I  had  chosen,  well  nigh  broke  my  oath ;  so  near 
it,  that  only  a  hair's-breadth  lay  between  me  and 
revelation.  A  woman  came  between,  as  weak  as 


BALLANTYNE  329 

he  was  strong ;  a  woman  who  played  with  us  all, 
and  presently  threw  him  over  for  Donald,  —  poor, 
weak  Donald,  who  had  the  most  money.  The  sor 
row  was  that  Cameron  loved  her,  but  it  turned  him 
the  way  he  had  half  resolved  upon  long  before. 
Donald  married  her,  and  is  to-day  as  blind  to  her 
methods  as  I  am  clear-seeing.  She  knows  I  loathe 
her,  but  the  reason  she  does  not  know.  And  Cam 
eron  is  a  Franciscan  monk  to-day  in  Italy,  and  has 
been  for  many  years.  That  may  be  another  clue  to 
the  present. 

"  Aberdeen  was  not  enough.  I  saw  what  England 
meant.  I  wanted  Oxford,  and  had  it.  By  this  time 
there  was  barely  a  being  on  earth  save  Donald  who 
could  rise  up  to  say  I  was  a  cheat.  I  did  my  work. 
I  had  my  friends.  I  had  large  life ;  more  and  more 
life,  and,  till  I  met  Barbara  Ryde,  believed  most 
women  cheats,  —  all  women  weak  as  water,  and  as 
unstable. 

u  Here  comes  the  thing  that  has  hurt  most  of  all 
hurts  life  has  brought.  She  was  not,  as  I  soon  found, 
like  any  woman  I  had  ever  met.  She  had  character, 
directness,  power.  She  loved  me  from  the  beginning, 
and  I  knew  it,  and  felt  myself  a  wretch,  yet  gloated 
over  every  step  of  the  perilous  way.  From  the 
world's  point  of  view  I  was  not  an  impossible 
match  for  her.  I  was  in  all  men's  mouths  for  the 
work  I  had  done,  and  they  looked  for  great  things  to 
come.  I  was  asked  everywhere,  and  went  to  get 
the  flavor  of  this  phase  of  the  world's  life.  I  had 


330  BALLANTYNE 

some  money,  and  rumor  made  it  more.      I  had  pres 
ence,  a  kind   of  beauty  that  women  liked,  and  men 
also.     You  do  not  like  the  type,  but  others  are  not 
of  the  same  mind.     And  now  you  are  saying,  what 
devil's  masquerading  was  this  ?    It  was  no  masquer 
ade,  I  tell  you,  or  so  but  on  one  side.      I  had  lived 
the    man's   life,  —  taken  the   man's    point   of   view. 
At  minutes  I  wondered  if  a  trace  of  woman  remained 
in  me.     To  round  out  the  experience,  I  must  know, 
so  far  as  might  be,  all  subtleties  of  love.      If  here  I 
do  not  understand   myself,  how  shall  I   make  you  ? 
It  is  enough  to  say  that  in  spite  of  my  own  will,  my 
own  struggle  against  the  inevitable,  I   found  myself, 
one  evening  at  Hetherington,  telling  her  I  loved  her, 
and  in  the  strange  mingling  of  emotion  holding  her 
to   my  heart  and  watching  her  response   as  another 
definition  in  my  dictionary  of  human  life.     I  knew  I 
must  presently  escape,  and  here  came  the  pinch.     I 
could   not  reveal  myself,  since  in  that  revelation  my 
ambitions    must  pass,  my  future  fall  in  ruins  before 
me.     A  power  not  my  own,  a  power  that  has  carried 
me   through   every  emergency,  led  me  through  this. 
She  knew  my  unceasing  curiosity  as  to  life.     It  did 
not    surprise    her    that    I    wished    to    see    and    study 
America.     I   left   her    thus,   naturally,  and    by  slow 
degrees  the  correspondence  died.      That  she  presently 
had  to  think  me  a  scoundrel  has  been  the  bad  side  of 
it.     Save   for  my  work,   I  would  have  told  her   the 
truth.      In  all  save  this  one  thing  my  life  is  an  open 
book.      I  have  done  what  came  to   me  as  good  to  do. 


BALLANTYNE  331 

I  have  been  hope  and  strength  and  stimulus  to  many 
minds,  a  million  times  beyond  the  power  of  woman. 
It  is  difficult  always  to  recollect  that  I  am  one.  The 
role  so  strenuously  learned  is  part  of  my  very  blood. 
I  am  not  the  fraud  you  believe.  I  am  honest,  and 
have  always  wished  to  be  so.  The  world  is  for  man. 
As  woman,  I  should  utterly  have  lost  its  savor,  its 
richness,  the  sense  of  conquest  and  ownership  that 
thrills  me  as  I  go.  I  do  not  comprehend  myself. 
It  is  or  may  be  the  woman  in  me  that  compels  mi 
raculous  friendships,  fuller  in  power  and  charm  than 
most  of  that  that  men  call  loving.  They  round  out  and 
fulfil  my  conception  of  living.  If  they  ever  fail  me, 
there  are  always  other  resources ;  but  they  will  not. 
I  know  my  people  and  they  know  me,  and  the  shift 
ing  as  it  seems  to  you  is  the  play  of  the  kaleidoscope, 
more  permanent  than  you  think,  since,  whatever  the 
combination,  the  essential  pieces  are  always  the 
same. 

"  I  shall  keep,  then,  my  little  colony,  though  the 
principals  in  it  may  change,  as  change  they  have  more 
than  once.  I  shall  live  my  life.  For  its  ending  I 
do  not  concern  myself  greatly.  I  have  had  premoni 
tions  of  what  it  may  be.  When  they  are  clearer  you 
will  hear  of  me  again  as  gone  to  Italy,  and  in  that 
Franciscan  convent  Cameron  will  receive  my  last 
confession,  and,  if  need  arise,  placate  the  outraged 
monks.  In  the  meantime  I  have  no  fear  of  indis 
creet  revelation  on  your  part.  I  would  have  kept 
you  for  the  work  if  Fate  had  not  willed  otherwise, 


332  BALLANTYNE 

for  it  is  the  one  true  seed  of  true  life  for  this  para 
doxical  country.  Why  your  eyes  have  been  unsealed 
remains  a  problem  to  me,  but  one  I  need  not  seek  to 
solve.  Later,  you  will  perhaps  come  to  comprehen 
sion  of  me  and  my  life.  That  you  cannot  to-day 
does  not  surprise,  and  there  I  leave  it." 

All  perception  of  the  life  about  him  had  been  lost 
as  Ballantyne  read  with  an  absorption  as  utter  as  if 
this  were  the  first  hint  of  the  strange  life  whose  orbit 
must  here  and  there,  in  the  future,  still  touch  his  own. 
He  roused  at  last  to  consciousness  of  things  about 
him  as  the  conductor  faced  him  inquiringly  and  he 
saw  the  empty  car,  and  its  passengers  making  their 
way  toward  the  waiting  ferry-boat.  He  folded  the 
sheets  hastily  and  thrust  them  into  an  inner  pocket, 
then  withdrew  them  as  hastily,  for  his  hand  had 
touched  a  letter  written  the  night  before  that  could 
have  no  place  side  by  side  with  this  record  of  a 
double  life.  That  life  he  would  judge  no  longer. 
Its  mystery,  its  extraordinary  involvements,  the  re 
sults  that  still  might  come,  were  no  longer  part  of  his 
responsibility ;  and  as  he  leaned  over  the  side  of  the 
railing  he  took  the  confession  from  his  pocket,  tore 
it  into  minutest  fragments,  and  watched  them  floating 
on  the  outgoing  tide  with  a  sense  that  that  passage 
was  over.  His  own  letter  he  still  held  thoughtfully, 
then,  as  the  shore  was  reached,  crossed  to  the  nearest 
mail-box  and  dropped  it  in,  his  eyes  lighting  suddenly 
as  the  lid  closed  upon  it. 

"  That   settles   my  side   of  the   problem,"  he  said 


BALLANTYNE  333 

half  aloud,  and  turned  down  West  Street  and  toward 
the  dock,  where  the  boat  lay.  Miss  Ryde's  weekly 
letter,  received  a  day  or  so  before,  had  held  a  para 
graph  which  had  made  him  long  to  take  instant  pas 
sage  for  England,  and  he  had  read  it  over  and  over. 

"  Perhaps,"  it  had  ended,  "  I  have  no  right  to 
speak,  but  it  seems  to  me  the  time  is  nearing  when 
you  may  and  must.  As  I  watch  Marion,  it  becomes 
plainer  to  me  daily  that  she  has  less  and  less  interest 
in  the  England  she  had  determined  to  adopt,  and 
more  and  more  drawing  toward  the  country  she  for 
sook.  She  has  had  a  sheaf  of  strange  experiences 
here,  which  she  must  tell  you  herself.  For  the  rest, 
I  am  certain  that  if  you  write,  it  will  clarify  the  whole 
turbid,  perplexed  state  of  things,  and  give  her  the 
power  to  decide  what  she  needs  ;  but  as  to  that,  you 
are  final  judge,  and  you  only." 

"  So  be  it,"  said  Ballantyne,  baring  his  head  for  the 
moment,  as  his  eyes  looked  far  beyond  the  swarm 
of  people  all  about;  then,  with  the  look  of  one 
who  knows  that  good  is  near,  passed  on  toward  the 
propeller. 


Chapter    Twelfth 


MISS  RYDE  had  taken  her  place  behind 
the   tall  coffee  urn    of  her  breakfast 
table,  and  looked  impatiently  toward 
the  open  windows  through  which  the 
light  wind  of  early   September  blew  softly,  bringing 
with   it   the   scent  of   ingathering   harvests   and  that 
fainter  one  of  earthiness  that  carries  in  it  the  threat 
of  falling  leaf  and  fading  flower,  and  naked  tossing 
branches,  "  bare  ruined  choirs,  where  once  the  sweet 
birds  sang." 

To-day  such  hour  seemed  far  remote.  Green  and 
silent  stretches  of  turf  swept  far  under  long  vistas  of 
shadowing  trees.  On  the  gray  front  of  the  old  house 
the  sunshine  fell  warm,  as  it  had  fallen  on  generation 
after  generation  of  dead  and  gone  Hetheringtons,  and 
in  the  ancient  garden  at  the  side,  with  clipped  fanci 
ful  forms  of  box  and  sweet  old  flowers  whose  names 
the  modern  gardener  knoweth  not,  walked  a  pair  at 
whose  figures  Barbara  Ryde  looked  with  a  sniff  of 
scorn. 

u  The  men  are  mad,  quite  mad,"  she  said.  "  Jane, 
go  and  say  to  Miss  Lacy  and  Mr.  Beresford  that  I 
am  here  and  waiting." 


BALLANTYNE  335 

Jane,  the  inflexible,  had  properly  no  place  in  the 
breakfast-room,  but  her  tacitly  conceded  rights  in 
cluded  the  privilege  of  oversight  of  the  teakettle,  and 
a  short  space  in  which  she  waged  silent  and  deter 
mined  war  with  the  butler,  who  resented  with  never- 
assuaged  fury  her  claim  to  the  post-bag,  swelling  like 
a  turkey  cock  as  he  handed  it  to  her,  and  retreating 
for  what  might  be  called  a  suppressed  but  no  less  furi 
ous  gobble  of  protest  in  his  own  private  quarters. 

Miss  Ryde  smiled  grimly  as  she  watched  the  famil 
iar  pantomime,  and  having  received  the  bag,  which  she 
unlocked  herself,  repeated  her  order,  in  the  mean 
time  going  over  the  pile  of  letters,  rising  to  distrib 
ute  them  to  the  various  places  with  a  running  com 
ment  as  she  went. 

"  Beresford,  two  duns  and  seven  invitations.  Nor- 
ris,  five  from  the  maddest  of  his  Social  Democratic 
Federation  lunatics  —  I  know  by  the  extraordinary 
writing ;  and  the  rest  his  general  series  of  adorers  and 
inviters  in  all  directions.  Eleanor,  much  the  same. 
Marion,  ha  !  " 

Miss  Ryde  paused,  and  a  look  of  surprise  replaced 
by  one  of  satisfaction  was  on  her  face. 

"  So  !  John  has  come  to  his  senses  at  last  !  "  she 
said.  "  He  should  have  done  this  or  he  could  have 
done  it  months  ago.  It  is  well  perhaps  as  it  is. 
From  the  thickness  he  appears  to  have  made  up  for 
lost  time.  Ha,  Beresford  !  Will  you  never  learn 
that  water  being  put  over  fire  at  a  fixed  time,  in  a 
fixed  way,  boils  at  a  fixed  minute,  and  that  you  who 


336  BALLANTYNE 

must  have  tea  after  your  own  theory,  must  also  con 
form  to  law  if  you  would  drink  it  after  those  of  your 
own  making  ?  " 

Mr.  Beresford  paused  in  the  window,  and  rumpled 
again  the  fiery  hair  which  seemed  to  have  just 
emerged  from  a  similar  process,  eying  her  at  the 
same  time  with  a  certain  subdued  defiance,  but  he 
spoke  no  word. 

"  Where  is  Marion  ?  "  Miss  Ryde  asked  after  a 
moment  in  which  she  smiled  wickedly. 

"  At  the  bottom  of  the  garden,  madam,  under  the 
eglantine,  and  just  turning  to  come  in." 

u  Where  you  drove  her  with  another  proposal, 
Beresford.  How  many  does  this  make  ?  " 

"  Six,"  returned  Beresford,  undaunted.  "  I  shall 
make  it  in  the  end." 

"  Idiot  !  "  said  Miss  Ryde,  in  her  most  composed 
tone.  "  Lunatic,  fool,  and  blind  !  Can  you  not  see 
she  has  other  thoughts  in  that  head  of  hers  ?  " 

"  Perfectly,  madam,  but  that  does  not  exclude  a 
few  more.  I  propose  to  leave  with  her  clear  and 
absolute  understanding  that  if  she  finds  it  agreeable 
to  play  football  with  the  heart  of  Beresford,  it  is 
entirely  at  her  disposition.  I  do  not  as  yet  seem 
to  have  made  this  perfectly  clear,  but  I  do  not 
despair." 

"  Football !  "  returned  Miss  Ryde  suddenly,  pink 
with  indignation.  "  Will  you  never  understand  that 
whether  the  thing  of  rubber  you  call  a  heart  is  in  you 
or  not,  makes  no  atom  of  difference  to  her  ?  " 


BALLANTYNE  337 

"  The  thing  of  rubber  has  at  least  one  good  point, 
madam.  What  it  encircles,  it  holds  firm." 

"  Yes,  till  something  subtler  has  done  its  work,  and 
the  band  snaps  when  most  needed.  Your  simile  was 
ill-chosen,  Beresford.  I  have  gone  back  to  ribbons 
for  my  letters  and  so  renounced  one  more  modern 
inadequacy.  So,  Marion,  you  are  there  at  last  ?  " 

Marion  came  lightly  in,  met  by  one  of  Beresford's 
most  sweeping  bows. 

"  '  My  lady  comes  at  last,'  "  he  said.  "  There  sits 
Radamanthia,  and  the  water  boils." 

ct  It  sounds  like  immediate  execution.  Indeed,  we 
are  too  bad  to  have  kept  you  waiting  so,"  Marion 
said,  smiling  softly  as  she  met  Miss  Ryde's  contented 
look,  a  look  that  always  came  when  it  fell  upon  her. 
She  kissed  her  as  she  spoke,  and  Miss  Ryde  shook 
her  head  in  a  perfunctory  way  as  if  to  emphasize  a 
general  theory  as  to  follies  of  that  nature,  and  Marion 
passed  to  her  place,  a  sudden  rising  and  ebbing  of 
color  being  the  only  token  of  surprise  as  she  looked 
at  the  superscription  on  her  letter. 

Beresford  had  eyed  it  with  keen  interest  and 
watched  her  jealously,  piling  her  plate  with  cold 
meats  from  the  sideboard,  and  more  and  more  urgent 
as  he  saw  what  slight  interest  breakfast  had  for  her. 
She  answered  him  as  usual,  the  mixture  of  persiflage 
and  seriousness  that  constituted  their  daily  intercourse; 
but  there  was  a  look  in  the  little  man's  eyes  as  she 
finally  rose  that  brought  sudden  compunction  to  the 
keen  ones  that  rested  on  him. 

22 


338  BALLANTYNE 

"  It  is  dead  earnest,"  Miss  Ryde  thought.  "  Poor 
Beresford  !  Well,  I  am  not  certain  he  does  not  de 
serve  it,  but  it  is  hard  none  the  less." 

"  Come  here  by  me,"  she  said,  abruptly.  "  Beres 
ford,  did  you  know  Lord  Auberon  had  proposed  to 
Marion  ?  " 

"  D — n  him,"  Beresford  said,  under  his  breath. 

"I  should  be  perfectly  reconciled  to  such  a  con 
clusion,"  Miss  Ryde  said,  calmly,  "  if  it  were  Ben- 
ners  or  Marston  or  the  other  one  that  made  his  bid 
for  her  money.  She  has  even  more  now,  for  some 
old  Quaker  who  died  the  other  day  left  her  all  he  had, 
in  addition  to  the  comfortable  sum  she  owns  already. 
But  Lord  Auberon  is  another  matter.  He  has  more 
than  a  suspicion  of  a  soul.  He  thinks  and  feels,  and 
would  worship  her.  She  grows  move  lovely  every 
day." 

"  I  know  it,"  Beresford  said,  with  a  groan.  u  I 
have  eyes  if  I  am  forty-eight,  and  I  find  a  sensitive 
spot  still  in  the  thing  of  rubber." 

Miss  Ryde  put  out  her  hand,  and  her  friendliest 
look  was  upon  him. 

"  Don't  you  see,"  she  said,  "  that  the  enchantment 
is  over  ?  Marion  is  as  American  to-day  as  John  Bal- 
lantyne.  That  is  what  the  year  has  done  for  her, 
and  I  am  glad  of  it." 

"  It  is  entirely  your  fault,"  Beresford  said,  in 
sudden  wrath.  u  You  have  riddled  everything  with 
that  tongue  of  yours,  till  nothing  remained  sacred 
or  honorable  or  worthy  any  more.  Yet  one  year 


BALLANTYNE  339 

ago  she  was  to  all  intents  and  purposes  an  English 
woman." 

u  And  more  shame  to  her  if  I  do  say  it,"  returned 
Miss  Ryde.  "  But  then  no  less  shame  to  me  and  to 
you,  and  all  fools  who  would  have  had  it  last.  To 
tickle  our  fancy  and  her  own,  is  she  to  renounce  her 
birthright,  and  have  no  sense  of  what  father  land  and 
mother  country  mean  ?  She  wanted  the  permanent, 
the  unshifting,  Heaven  help  her !  There  is  but  one 
permanent  and  unshifting,  and  its  home  is  under 
skies  neither  your  eyes  nor  mine  are  to  see  yet, 
Beresford." 

"  Then  she  is  going  back  ?  You  don't  mean  — 
Is  it  Ballantyne  ?  " 

ct  Yes,  it  is  Ballantyne,"  Miss  Ryde  said.  "  And 
now,  Ashton  Beresford,  hold  your  tongue  and  go  your 
way  in  peace."  And  with  sudden  remorse  at  her  own 
unguarded  speech  she  turned  abruptly  from  him  and 
left  the  room. 

Marion  in  the  meantime  had  left  the  house  and 
was  making  her  way  to  a  deep  retreat  far  down  the 
wood,  where  a  group  of  mighty  beeches  swept  the 
ground  with  their  branches  and  made  a  retreat  se 
cure  and  inviolable.  In  the  curving  hollow  of  one 
a  back  had  been  constructed,  forming  a  seat  with 
ample  space  for  two.  Here  she  sat  down  and  for 
a  moment  looked  silently  at  the  letter  in  her  hand. 
Then  with  passionate  tenderness  she  pressed  it  to 
eyes  and  lips,  and  slowly  opening  it  touched  the 
pages  softly  as  if  for  caress,  and  read  : 


340  BALLANTYNE 

u  I  had  said  to  myself,  my  Marion,  for  my  Marion 
you  are  forever,  no  matter  what  will  of  yours  may 
still  lie  between,  that  no  word  should  go  from  me 
to  you  till  I  stood  again  in  your  presence  and  could 
know  what  the  year  had  wrought  or  left  unaccom 
plished.  But  the  sudden  pressure  of  events,  that 
shall  have  no  room  here,  has  made  me  turn  to  you 
to-night  with  inexpressible  longing,  and  I  write  and 
must  write  some  things  that  will  not  wait  for  speech. 
With  you  before  me,  I  should  be  blind  and  deaf  to 
anything  but  the  one  demand.  I  want  the  details, 
the  few  that  need  words,  disposed  of  beforehand. 
Till  now  I  have  held  to  my  agreement.  You  will 
forgive  me  if  a  few  days  before  the  year  ends  I 
reach  across  this  space  that  lies  between. 

"  Do  you  think  that  I  have  found  this  time  of  wan 
dering  up  and  down,  seeking  to  understand  this  life 
that  drew  me  here,  an  easy  one  ?  Not  a  day  but  has 
held  its  moments,  more  often  its  hours,  when  my 
pledge  to  you  has  seemed  simple  madness;  when  one 
touch  of  your  hand,  one  look  into  your  eyes,  would 
have  meant  all  that  life  can  ever  hold  of  happiness. 

"  Now  before  I  try  to  tell  you  what  these  months 
have  meant,  you  must  know  that  I  have  no  argument 
for  my  own  hope  and  desire,  that  you  may  not  use 
with  equal  force  for  your  own.  I  realize  this  so  fully 
that  I  hold  myself  ready  for  any  compromise  that 
will  best  meet  your  own  need  and  wish.  Where 
you  are  is  my  country,  my  home,  yet  you  know  and 
I  know  how  deep  is  the  faith  that  brought  me  here, 


BALLANTYNE  341 

and  how  I  long  to  have  your  thought  toward  it  as 
mine.  And  now  let  me  write,  as  I  can,  what,  as  the 
year  ends,  I  find  to  be  its  summary. 

"  I  shall  not  seek  to  give  here  in  detail  the  strange 
impressions  of  those  first  months  at  home.  You 
know,  through  the  letters  to  Miss  Ryde,  that  I  trav 
elled  constantly,  and  in  many  States,  with  fullest 
access  to  every  phase  of  life,  from  the  factory  hand 
or  the  hod-carrier  up  to  the  millionaire.  For  months 
I  have  to  confess  that  the  situation  seemed  to  me 
infinitely  worse  than  anything  in  England,  because 
here  a  great  thought  seemed  hopelessly  overlaid  by 
aims  that  meant  only  the  pursuit  of  the  merely 
material  advantage. 

"  In  England,  where  the  same  sordidness  and  en 
compassing  power  of  the  mercantile  spirit  is  often 
one's  despair,  is  the  more  and  more  certain  fact  of 
an  enormous  movement  toward  liberty  and  higher 
aims.  For  such  aims  I  seemed  here  to  search  in 
vain.  Here  and  there  an  individual  stood  for  simple 
sincerity  of  thought  and  life,  but  below  all  was  the 
unending  chink  of  the  dollar ;  and  in  what  is  called 
society,  that  setting  apart  of  the  few  from  the  many, 
Anglomania  ruled,  and  reversion  to  a  dying  type 
seemed  the  dearest  wish  of  those  who  had  forgot 
ten,  or  even  never  known,  the  meaning  of  the  in 
heritance  they  failed  to  claim. 

"  This  was  the  first  series  of  impressions,  and  pro 
found  melancholy  settled  upon  me.  With  less  direct 
knowledge,  perhaps,  I  saw  that  your  woman's  intuition 


342  BALLANTYNE 

had  given  you  this  phase  in  full,  and  knew  why  you 
had  left  it  behind  you,  and  sought  in  the  older  home 
the  substance  instead  of  the  shadow.  But  gradually, 
from  the  crude  mass  of  unassorted  impressions,  other 
forms  arose,  undefined  still,  but  with  promise  in  their 
outline.  But  I  doubted  much  if  the  life  an  American 
citizen  should  naturally  live  could  be  lived  either  in 
the  mart  or  in  the  midst  of  the  indifference  and  dead 
level  of  mediocrity,  which  seems  one  result  of  the 
present  form  of  education. 

"  It  was  at  this  point  that  I  went  to  the  little  com 
munity,  details  of  which,  for  many  reasons,  I  have 
never  given,  It  had  seemed  to  demonstrate  itself 
that  the  individual  in  whom  faith  remained  must 
isolate  himself  and  live  his  life  apart  from  the  mass, 
since  a  machine  controlled  politics,  and  for  thinker, 
artist,  or  author  retreat  was  the  sole  resource  in  a 
society  that  cared  only  nominally  for  their  doings. 

"  Such  conclusion  had  come  to  the  head  of  the  com 
munity,  a  man  of  singular  power  in  many  directions, 
who  sought  to  bring  about  him  a  group  of  like  mind, 
and  who  had  a  species  of  monastery  in  the  country, 
yet  near  enough  to  keep  in  touch  with  the  best  in 
New  York.  Here  all  relations  of  the  citizen  to  the 
State  were  to  be  lived  out,  and  the  ideal  made  the 
substance  of  daily  thought  and  work. 

"  For  a  time,  sceptically  as  I  watched  it  all,  it  even 
seemed  to  me  that  in  life  of  this  nature  might  be  the 
solution  for  all.  Then  as  fuller  knowledge  came, 
its  deep  and  utter  selfishness  grew  more  and  more 


BALLANTYNE  343 

apparent.  So  far  from  making  loyalty  more  possible, 
it  rendered  disloyalty  inevitable.  From  every  com 
mon  need  and  want  was  entire  separation.  Family 
life  had  no  place.  Contempt,  criticism,  cold  aloof 
ness,  hedged  us  about.  With  this  I  saw  also  much 
of  society,  and  now  and  then  had  glimpses  of  better 
life  underlying  it  and  plain  in  faces  that  I  encountered 
here  and  there. 

"  It  became  certain  that  this  man  Morris  had  failed 
to  grasp  the  meaning  that  still  remained,  and  his  sum 
mary  of  every  struggle  since  the  War  of  Independence 
as  a  mere  fight  for  easiest  methods  of  filling  the 
treasury  came  to  be  to  me  mere  froth  and  dogmatism. 
With  all  the  good  that  went  with  his  scheme  went 
always  a  fatal  ignoring  of  any  but  the  individual  right. 
The  many  were  mere  canaille,  and  went  to  their  own 
place.  The  c  Brotherhood  of  the  Heights  '  had  no 
place  for  those  who  must  dwell  in  the  valley,  and 
against  such  separation  I  revolted  more  and  more. 
It  was  the  daily  observation  of  a  selfish  absorption, 
often  unconscious,  but  pervading  the  entire  scheme, 
that  brought  me  by  degrees  to  see  the  possibilities  of 
natural  living  among  men  ;  and  when  this  was  plain 
again,  though  its  methods  were  still  filled  with  diffi 
culties,  I  left  them  for  a  time,  and  at  my  cousin's  old 
home  found  an  American  so  ardent,  so  simple  and 
sincere,  that  suddenly  I  saw  that  under  the  Philistine 
garb  that  this  century  of  material  effort  has  woven 
and  ordained  for  most,  the  same  heart  might  often 
beat. 


344  BALLANTYNE 

"  In  him,  in  his  sons,  in  those  who  came  and  went 
with  him,  I  saw  that  if  money  sometimes  meant 
much,  honor  and  loyalty  meant  more,  and  that  in  the 
mass  I  had  doubted  or  scorned  or  feared  lay  dormant 
a  faith  and  an  abounding  energy,  that  in  any  crisis 
would  unite  as  one  and  meet  the  call  for  sacrifice,  for 
death  if  needed.  You  and  I  alike  have  called  it 
crude,  shifting,  uncertain,  ignoble.  You  and  I  have 
felt  together  that  the  Republic,  save  as  a  name,  had 
nearly  ceased  to  exist,  and  lay  prone  under  the  wheels 
of  the  enormous  Juggernaut,  the  political  machine,  in 
which  the  Irishman,  incapable  of  rule  at  home,  finds 
with  surprised  delight  a  kingdom  where  his  reckless, 
conscienceless  impulses  are  allowed  fullest  play.  He 
dominates  the  cities.  He  does  not  dominate  the 
people  as  a  whole. 

"  Our  healing  lies  yet  in  shadow,  but  it  is  near. 
Neither  in  democracy  nor  in  aristocracy  can  it  be 
found,  but  in  the  conscience  and  heart  of  thousands 
who  watch  the  voice  will  speak,  and  a  wider,  wiser 
humanity  begin.  What  we  want, — but  here  are 
words  that  speak  more  clearly  than  mine  the  need 
and  the  outcome  ;  words  of  an  American  noblest  of 
all,  for  they  are  Lowell's : 

tc '  What  we  want  is  an  active  class,  who  will  insist, 
in  season  and  out  of  season,  that  we  shall  have  a 
country  whose  greatness  is  measured  not  only  by  its 
square  miles,  its  number  of  yards  woven,  of  hogs 
packed,  of  bushels  of  wheat  raised  ;  not  only  by  its 
skill  to  feed  and  clothe  the  body,  but  also  by  its 


BALLANTYNE  345 

power  to  feed  and  clothe  the  soul ;  a  country  which 
shall  be  as  great  morally  as  it  is  materially ;  a  country 
whose  very  name  shall  not  only,  as  it  now  does,  stir 
us  as  with  the  sound  of  a  trumpet,  but  shall  call  out 
all  that  is  best  within  us,  by  offering  us  the  radiant 
image  as  something  better  and  nobler  and  more 
enduring  than  we ;  of  something  that  shall  fulfil  our 
own  thwarted  aspirations,  when  we  are  but  a  handful 
of  forgotten  dust  in  the  soil  trodden  by  a  race  whom 
we  shall  have  helped  to  make  more  worthy  of  their 
inheritance  than  we  ourselves  had  the  power,  I  might 
almost  say  the  means,  to  be.' 

"  My  Marion,  it  is  this  life  I  would  live.  It  is  this 
life  I  would  have  you  love  and  share.  Come  back 
with  me  to  your  own,  dearest  child  of  a  race  whose 
love  for  country  never  slackened,  and  whose  faith  is 
no  less  living  in  you  whose  despair  has  been  the 
noble  despair  of  a  noble  soul.  Feel  it  still  you  may, 
perhaps  must,  but  in  moments  only.  The  hope  of 
the  nations,  the  hope  of  every  waiting  soul,  is  here. 
I  am  coming  for  you.  You  will  return  with  me,  and 
here  in  the  old  home,  in  that  noblest  city  that  noblest 
feet  have  trod,  whose  air,  no  matter  what  earthy 
damps  and  mists  may  rise,  still  throbs  with  great 
thoughts  and  glorious  acts,  there  we  shall  live  and 
work,  secure  in  the  faith  that  the  foundations  laid  by 
steady  hands  and  minds  that  could  not  falter  endure 
and  must  endure  forever.  Come  home  with  me,  my 
Marion,  and  in  coming  know  that  the  older  home  is 
also  ours,  and  that  both  are  our  inheritance." 


346  BALLANTYNE 

Marion  read  the  closely  written  sheets  once,  twice, 
then  folded  them  gently,  and,  still  holding  them  in  her 
hand,  sat  motionless  and  lost  in  thought,  with  unsee 
ing  eyes  fixed  on  the  fair  English  landscape  before 
her.  Doubt  had  vanished.  Perplexities  had  ended. 
"  I  have  been  a  prig  —  a  prig  of  the  most  detestable 
order,"  she  said  at  last,  rising  from  her  seat,  a  new 
look  on  her  face.  "  That  alone  is  answer  sufficient, 
for  it  sums  up  my  year.  I  had  to  find  it  out,  though, 
and  he  will  understand." 


C  hapter     Thirteenth 


1 


light  blue  haze  that  had  rested  over 
the  marshes  as  Ballantyne  had  looked 
his  last  toward  them  deepened  as  they 
went,  and  when  the  hour  of  starting 
found  him  on  board  the  Providence  boat  a  gathering 
fog  rested  on  harbor  and  shipping,  and  made  their 
way  out  to  the  East  River  a  slow  and  uncertain  pas 
sage.  Once  past  Hell  Gate,  however,  and  in  the  open 
sound,  the  channel  was  clear ;  and  though  the  whistle 
sounded  at  regular  intervals,  the  fog  did  not  thicken, 
and  their  way  seemed  unobstructed. 

As  he  went  on  board  the  voice  of  a  child  had  called 
out  suddenly  :  "  Papa  !  papa  !  Oh,  mamma  !  Papa 
is  coming !  "  and  he  looked  up  to  see  the  faces  of 
two  boys,  of  five  and  six,  or  seven  perhaps,  who 
waved  their  hands  and  cried  again  as  they  met 
his  eyes : 

"  Mamma,  it  is  papa." 

Some  one  drew  them  away,  looking  over  for  a 
moment,  with  a  little  flush  and  smile,  a  delicate  high 
bred  face,  and  when  he  went  out  to  the  upper  deck 
he  found  them  still  there,  and  the  oldest  boy  ran 
to  him. 


348  BALLANTYNE 

u  What  makes  you  look  so  like  our  papa  ?  "  he 
said.  "You  are  not,  I  can  see  now,  but  I  didn't 
see  at  first." 

u  Come  here,  Philip,"  the  mother  said  ;  but  Ballan- 
tyne's  arm  was  around  him  as  he  heard  the  name, 
and  the  child  moved  closer  with  a  look  toward  the 
mother  that  begged  permission  to  stay. 

"  Let  me  have  him  for  a  while,  if  you  will,"  Bal- 
lantyne  said,  for  name  and  age  both  recalled  the  little 
brother  bound  up  with  every  memory  of  his  child 
hood.  The  mother  smiled  assent,  and  the  shyer 
child  who  had  lingered  by  her  presently  joined  them. 
The  night  was  warm  and  close,  and  Ballantyne,  who 
had  brought  a  small  basket  of  choice  peaches,  pre 
ferred  them  to  supper  in  the  stifling  cabin  below,  and 
shared  them  with  the  children,  whose  delicate,  beauti 
ful  faces  were  like  the  mother's,  and  who  had  soon 
told  him  why  they  were  there.  Papa  was  sick,  very 
sick,  the  oldest  said,  and  in  Providence,  where  he  had 
stayed  at  home  while  they  went  to  Long  Island,  and 
now  they  were  going  to  him,  because  he  could  not  get 
well  without  his  two  boys. 

"  We  shall  take  care  of  him,"  Philip  said,  proudly. 
"  I  love  him  so  much  he  '11  have  to  get  well,  you 
know.  Mamma  says  love  cures  everything  in  the 
world." 

"  Mamma  is  right,"  Ballantyne  answered. 

"  Of  course,"  the  child  went  on.  "  Mamma 
is  always  right.  When  I  get  angry  with  little 
John—" 


BALLANTYNE  349 

"  Philip  and  John  !  "  Ballantyne  repeated,  and  he 
looked  at  them  with  sudden  apprehension,  unaccount 
able  to  himself. 

"  Little  John,  but  not  Johnny,"  the  child  went  on. 
"  Mamma  wants  all  our  whole  name  because  she  likes 
them.  Do  you  like  them  ?  " 

u  Very  much,  for  one  is  my  own  name,  and  the 
other  was  my  own  little  brother's  long  ago." 

"  Tell  me  about  him,"  Philip  urged,  "  Where  is 
he  ?  Is  he  big  and  tall  like  you  ?  " 

u  He  must  be,  Philip,  for  he  is  almost  as  old  as  I. 
He  went  to  heaven  a  great  while  ago,  when  he  was 
only  as  old  as  you,"  Ballantyne  answered,  the  earnest 
face  and  dark  eyes  of  the  child  seeming  almost  Philip's 
own.  The  mother  came  presently  to  take  them  to 
bed,  and  they  threw  their  arms  about  his  neck  and 
hugged  him  close. 

"  I  love  you,  I  love  you,"  the  small  lips  said. 
"  Will  you  be  here  in  the  morning  ?  Good  night, 
good  night." 

Ballantyne's  eyes  followed  them.  His  love  for 
children  was  instinctive. 

"No  wonder  the  father  pines  for  them,"  he 
thought ;  and  then  as  there  came  before  him  the 
vision  of  what  might  be,  a  vision  which  as  it  some 
times  rose  he  had  shut  resolutely  away,  he  gave  it 
full  dominion.  For  him,  too,  might  be  the  arms  of 
clinging  children  and  kisses  quite  his  own,  to  make 
him  glad.  The  fog  had  lifted.  Behind  them  the  wake 
lay  white  and  glistening,  and  the  sky  was  clear  above. 


35o  BALLANTYNE 

"  The  night  in  silence  under  many  a  star, 

The  ocean  shore  and  the  husky  whispering  wave  whose  voice 

I  know, 

And  the  soul  turning  to  thee,  O  vast  and  well-veiled  Death, 
And  the  body  gratefully  nestling  close  to  thee." 

The  words  seemed  to  come  of  themselves.  He 
spoke  them  half  aloud,  and  started  at  the  sound. 

"  It  is  life,  more  life,  not  death,  that  I  want,"  he 
said,  low.  "  It  is  the  shadow  of  poor  Regnault's  fate 
that  is  on  me  to-night,  and  that  will  hardly  pass  till  I 
see  Marion  again."  And  he  went  to  his  state-room 
to  forget  in  sleep  all  that  the  day  had  brought. 

How  long  he  slept  he  could  not  tell.  He  woke 
suddenly  from  the  dream  that  in  childhood  had  come 
so  often,  the  memory  of  the  shipwreck,  and  the  long 
night  in  which  they  huddled  together  on  the  deck,  till 
in  the  gray  twilight  of  early  morning,  the  shore  rising 
dim  beyond,  the  gray  old  sailor  who  had  held  his  post 
at  their  side  said  to  them,  "  It 's  time.  This  is  the 
best  chance."  Then  his  father's  face  had  suddenly 
shown  itself,  pale  and  set  but  very  quiet,  as  when  he 
bound  the  younger  to  his  shoulders  and  held  John  in 
his  arm  ready  for  that  leap  to  the  black  water  below. 
"  Hold  fast,  my  little  Philip.  Keep  your  head  up  all 
the  time,  and  father  will  bring  you  to  shore.  Be 
brave,  my  little  John,  and  don't  struggle.  Father 
will  hold  you  safe."  Then  came  the  plunge;  the 
long,  long  sinking  and  uprising;  the  leaping  waves, 
the  struggle,  and  a  crash  and  cry  as  something  ground 
and  tore  and  splintered,  and  threw  him  to  the  floor. 


BALLANTYNE  351 

He  staggered  up,  the  horror  of  the  dream  still  upon 
him ;  but  a  moment  sufficed  to  collect  himself,  to 
grope  hastily  for  clothing,  and  feel  his  way  through  the 
saloon  to  the  deck,  where  in  the  dimness  of  earliest 
morning  he  saw  what  destruction  had  been  wrought. 
The  iron-clad  prow  of  a  powerful  propeller  had  cut 
its  way,  in  the  collision,  almost  to  the  centre  of 
their  boat,  which  was  already  settling  lower  and  lower. 
Then  came  the  mad  panic  of  creatures  in  whom  only 
terror  remained  alive.  The  few  boats  lowered  by  the 
sailors  sank  to  the  thwarts  as  men  flung  themselves 
down,  or  fell  back  sullenly  as  the  captain  raged  at 
them,  demanding  place  for  the  women  and  children. 
Ballantyne  looked  for  a  moment,  then  turned  sud 
denly.  The  mother  with  her  two  boys  was  not 
there;  and  he  made  his  way  down  again  and  toward 
the  state-room,  whose  neighborhood  to  his  own  he 
had  noted  the  night  before.  A  gleam  of  light  came 
from  within,  and  as  he  knocked  and  called,  the  door 
opened,  and  the  mother's  face,  pale  and  quiet,  showed 
itself. 

"Do  not  frighten  them,"  she  said.  "I  had  a 
candle.  I  have  dressed  them  partly,  and  am  ready 
now.  I  have  told  them  we  shall  go  ashore,  God 
knows  how,"  she  added,  "but  you  will  help  us." 

"There  is  no  time  to  lose,"  he  said,  taking  the 
younger  in  his  arms  ;  and  together  they  made  their 
way  to  the  deck.  Here  Ballantyne's  swift  hands 
bound  together  three  or  four  chairs,  and  now  he  fast 
ened  a  life  preserver  securely  about  the  mother,  lashed 


352  BALLANTYNE 

her  in  turn  to  the  frail  raft,  and  bound  the  younger 
child  in  her  arms  with  a  light  shawl  knotted  fast. 

"  Have  courage,"  he  said,  "  the  shore  is  not  far 
away,  and  something  will  soon  pick  you  up.  I  shall 
be  near  with  Philip,  and  we  shall  all  of  us  soon  be 
there,  and  safe." 

Even  as  he  spoke  he  knew  the  last  moments  of 
safety  were  past,  and  with  one  final  charge,  "  Hold 
fast  and  do  not  be  afraid,"  had  let  them  go.  Then 
something  rushed  by  him  as  he  rose  again,  and  a  fig 
ure  that  had  sunk  in  a  heap  on  the  deck,  groaning 
and  praying  abjectly,  followed  with  a  leap,  clutch 
ing  wildly  as  he  came  to  the  surface  at  the  chance  of 
life. 

Ballantyne  had  leaped,  guarding  against  the  danger 
of  rising  under  the  vessel,  and  now,  an  easy  and 
powerful  swimmer,  made  his  way  hampered  by  the 
child  he  had  fastened  securely  as  might  be  to  his 
back.  To  reach  the  frail  raft  that  held  the  mother, 
and  to  beat  ofF  the  creature  who  tried  to  climb  to  it, 
and  clutched  at  last  with  a  shriek  at  a  plank  that 
floated  near,  was  the  first  task  and  one  at  which  he 
sickened.  In  the  swirl  and  suck  of  the  sinking  ship 
lay  the  next  danger,  but  the  wind  had  already  shifted 
and  blew  steadily  toward  the  shore,  a  faint  gray  line 
barely  a  mile  away. 

"  I  shall   make  for   that    shore,"   Ballantyne    said. 
u  There  are  boats  there,  and  you  will  soon  be  safe. 
Philip    isn't  afraid.      He  knows  we  shall  get  there." 
"  I  'm  not  afraid  because  mamma  isn't,"  little  John 


BALLANTYNE  353 

said,  opening  the  eyes  he  had  shut  tight  in  terror, 
and  smiling  at  Philip,  who  clung  silently  and  said  no 
word. 

u  You  are  sure  you  have  strength  ? "  the  mother 
said.  "  Is  n't  it  better  to  hold  to  this  ?  " 

"  I  shall  till  the  last  of  it  is  over,"  Ballantyne 
replied.  "  It  is  coming  now." 

He  closed  his  eyes  as  he  spoke,  for  a  shriek  had 
gone  up  from  the  few  who  had  refused  to  leap,  and 
who  made  a  mad  rush  forward  as  the  ship  slowly 
settled,  till  with  a  sudden  convulsive  quiver  she 
plunged,  and  for  a  long  moment  only  the  whirl  of 
waves  was  above  her.  Then  to  the  surface  came 
struggling  heads  and  arms,  fragments  of  plank,  or 
floating  cabin  furniture,  and  one  poor  dog  who 
howled  mournfully  as  he  swam.  Here  and  there 
one  caught  at  something  floating  near  and  came  to 
presence  of  mind.  Here  and  there  drowning  wretches 
clutched  each  other  and  went  down  battling  together, 
and  through  it  all  Ballantyne  saw  only  the  wide, 
terror-stricken  eyes  of  the  child,  who  looked  in  hor 
ror  toward  them.  Then  there  was  silence,  and  in 
the  sick  giddiness  that  came  upon  him  he  knew  only 
that  he  must  reach  the  shore  and  find  means  of  rescue 
for  those  that  remained. 

"  I  should  not  leave  you  if  I  were  not  sure  it  would 
mean  swifter  help,"  he  said.  "  You  understand  ?  " 

"  God  bless  you,"  the  mother  said,  softly ;  and  he 
struck  out  toward  the  shore,  breasting  the  sullen 
waves  and  making  steady  headway  toward  the  flash- 

23 


3  54  BALLANTYNE 

ing  light  on  the  long  point  he  sought  to  reach.  To 
the  day  of  his  death  Ballantyne  will  remember  that 
slow  passage  toward  life ;  the  sweep  of  waves  as  the 
wind  rushed  about  him,  the  long  gasp  and  clutch  of 
the  brave  little  soul  who  gave  no  other  token  of 
fear,  and  his  own  terror  as  now  and  then  the  little 
head  fell  and  he  cried  to  him,  "  Hold  up  your  head, 
Philip  !  we  are  almost  there.  The  water  shall  not 
hurt  you." 

His  own  strength  was  less  than  he  had  thought. 
The  strokes  had  less  power.  There  seemed  some 
undercurrent  that  bore  him  back,  and  he  paused  with 
sudden  doubt.  The  shore  was  near.  As  he  trod 
water  for  a  moment  he  saw  the  low  line  of  rocks, 
and  on  the  point  a  man  who  waved  his  arms  and 
shouted  encouragingly.  He  pushed  on  nearer  and 
nearer,  till  at  last  with  one  supreme  effort  he  flung 
himself  forward,  conscious  only  of  sudden  sharp  pain, 
and  the  feeling  of  hands  that  held  and  pulled  him  in. 

"  The  child  ;  see  to  the  child,"  he  gasped,  and  then 
came  blackness  into  which  he  fell  and  knew  no  more. 

Ballantyne  opened  his  eyes  at  last  with  determined 
effort.  The  sound  of  the  waves  was  in  his  ears,  but 
warmth  and  cessation  of  struggle  had  come. 

"The  child;  see  to  the  child,"  he  said,  for  a 
weight  seemed  still  about  his  neck,  and  he  moved 
uneasily  and  tried  to  lift  his  head,  held  down  by 
something. 

"Those  were   his  last  conscious  words,"  a  voice 


BALLANTYNE  355 

said ;  and  another  deeper  one  replied  with  a  ring  of 
joy,  "  He  is  safe,  madam  ;  he  is  back  at  the  point 
where  consciousness  ended,  and  goes  on  from  there." 

Ballantyne's  lids  had  fallen  again.  They  were 
heavy  and  required  deliberate  action,  but  they  obeyed, 
and  he  looked  full  into  the  face  of  the  child  who 
stood  near  him,  wide-eyed  and  solemn,  yet  with  a 
dawning  smile. 

"  Little  Philip  ?  "  he  said  slowly,  and  tried  once 
more  to  look  about.  "  Then  we  are  in  heaven." 

He  stopped,  bewildered.  u  Why  do  you  come  as 
a  child  ?  "  he  said.  "  They  grow  here." 

"  I  am  Philip  :  don't  you  know  ?  You  brought 
me  to  shore,"  the  child  said,  and  flung  his  arms  about 
him  and  kissed  him  with  warm  lips  that  held  life. 

It  was  plain  again.  Life  and  not  death  was  there ; 
and  now  Ballantyne  looked  about  him,  strangely  weak 
but  remembering,  and  met  the  keen  eyes  of  a  gray- 
headed  man  who  looked  at  him  reassuringly,  and  the 
delicate  face,  pale  still,  but  with  deepest  happiness  in 
the  gaze,  of  the  mother  he  had  left  waiting  for  the 
help  he  sought. 

"  Thank  God,  you  are  quite  yourself,"  she  said, 
with  her  hand  for  a  moment  on  his.  "  Now  you  will 
soon  be  well." 

"  Well  ? "  he  repeated  vaguely ;  and  now  he  put 
up  his  hand  to  his  head,  rinding  bandages  about  it. 

"  A  small  fracture,  but  a  pretty  serious  one,"  the 
gray-headed  man  said.  "  I  am  the  doctor,  Dr.  Ger- 
shom.  We  managed  to  get  you  here,  but  it  has  been 


356  BALLANTYNE 

a  bit  doubtful  how  you  were  coming  out.     No  doubt 
now.     You  '11  be  on  your  feet  in  a  few  days." 
"  Here  ?     What  is  here  ?  " 

"  Providence.  You  are  in  John  Bartram's  house. 
This  girl  you  saved  for  us  is  my  daughter  Lucy. 
These  boys  are  my  grandchildren.  We  owe  you 
several  lives,  but  you  will  be  content  to  come  into 
full  possession  of  one." 

"  You  must  get  me  on  my  feet  at  once,"  Ballan- 
tyne  said,  decisively,  trying  to  rise  and  finding  it 
impossible.  "I  sail  on  Saturday." 

"You  may  sail  when  you  will  when  you  are 
stronger.  Now  there  is  a  little  waiting  to  be 
done." 

«  But,  doctor,  I  must  go,  if  I  have  to  be  carried  on 
board.  The  day  was  fixed.  I  cannot  break  it." 

A  door 'had  opened  in  the  next  room.  There  was 
a  moment's  delay,  and  then  Mrs.  LeBaron  came 
swiftly  in  and  bent  over  him,  tears  in  her  eyes,  but 
with  smiling  lips. 

"  Dear,  dear  John,"  she  said.  "  You  have  lain  here 
almost  ten  days.  Your  ship  went  without  you." 

For  a  moment  Ballantyne  closed  his  eyes,  and  turned 
away  his  face.  Then  he  opened  them  with  eager 
entreaty. 

"  Cable,"  he  said,  low.  tc  You  know  what  to  say. 
Cable  that  I  was  ill  and  could  not  come,  but  shall." 

"  I  have,"  Mrs.  LeBaron  said  ;  "  and  I  have  writ 
ten.  They  understand.  Now  sleep,  and  when  you 
wake  I  will  talk  as  much  as  you  like." 


BALLANTYNE  357 

She  laid  her  firm,  cool  hand  on  his  eyes,  and 
quiet  passed  from  it  into  every  nerve.  He  swal 
lowed  mechanically  something  put  between  his 
lips,  and  reaching  to  the  hand,  held  it  close  and  fell 
asleep. 

When  he  awoke  the  sun  was  shining  and  he  was 
alone,  with  memory  clear  and  full,  and  every  sense 
alert  and  vigorous.  He  could  move  now,  for  the  curi 
ous  torpor  had  passed  away,  and  he  looked  about  the 
room,  seeing  a  figure  in  the  deep  window,  which  turned 
and  showed  Mrs.  LeBaron's  face. 

"  You  are  quite  back  again  ?  "  she  said,  as  she  came 
to  him  and  bent  over  him.  "  A  very  different  night 
from  those  that  have  gone  before.  You  slept  like  an 
angel,  and  now  when  you  are  redd  up  a  little  you  shall 
have  breakfast,  —  a  real  breakfast,  and  not  the  con 
densed  substitutes  Dr.  Gershom  has  been  pouring 
down." 

Her  eyes  were  full  of  gladness  as  she  busied  herself 
about  him,  —  a  look  he  had  never  seen  on  her  face. 
The  children  came  in  when  the  tray  had  been  taken 
away,  and  he  sat  up,  gaunt  and  haggard  still,  but  quite 
alive,  and  held  Philip  close  as  he  climbed  on  the  bed 
and  crept  into  his  arms,  the  shadow  of  terror  still 
showing  in  his  dark  eyes. 

"  I  dreamed  about  it,"  he  whispered;  «  but  mamma 
told  me  I  should  n't  much  more.  She  said  she  knew, 
even  when  the  biggest  waves  came,  that  we  should 
get  to  shore,  and  then  the  boat  went  out  and  got  her 
and  John,  —  the  boat  from  the  lighthouse,  you  know. 


358  BALLANTYNE 

But  I  could  n't  speak  to  them  either  for  a  little  while, 
because  I  was  all  full  of  waves,  you  know.  I  did  hold 
up  my  head  all  the  way,  'cept  just  a  little." 

"  Brave  little  soul  ! "  Ballantyne  said,  with  a 
sudden  strange  thrill  as  if  another  presence  were 
there. 

"  It  is  the  end  of  any  doom  my  poor  mother 
believed  must  come,"  he  thought.  "  Whatever  spell 
her  mind  wove  for  itself  or  for  me  is  broken.  Life, 
and  not  death,  has  come  out  of  the  sea." 

"  Papa  is  getting  well.  He  can  walk  across  the 
room.  He  will  come  to  see  you  when  he  can  go  a 
little  farther.  I  have  got  to  go  now  and  tell  him  how 
you  are.  I  said  I  would  ;  "  and  Philip  slid  down  and 
tiptoed  from  the  room. 

"  Tell  me  how  you  knew,"  Ballantyne  said,  as 
Mrs.  LeBaron  sat  down  by  him. 

"  From  the  pocket-book  you  had  fastened  inside 
the  loose  undervest.  A  note  from  me  was  in  it,  and 
it  happened  that  Dr.  Gershom  and  I  were  old 
acquaintances.  He  wrote  me,  and  I  came  at  once. 
The  fracture  was  slight.  You  got  it  as  you  threw 
yourself  forward  in  that  last  tremendous  effort.  The 
lighthouse  keeper  said  he  thought  your  skull  had  gone 
like  an  eggshell,  and  you  lay  in  such  death-like  sense 
lessness,  there  was  hardly  a  token  of  life  till  Dr. 
Gershom  got  here.  The  collision  was  only  a  few 
miles  from  Providence,  and  the  only  way  seemed  to 
get  you  there.  An  ambulance  came  out  and  brought 
you  here,  and  here  you  have  come  to  yourself  just 


BALLANTYNE  359 

where  these  worshipping  people  would  have  you. 
And  now,  John,  I  have  something  for  you.  It  is  a 
cable  dispatch.  Can  you  read  it  ?  " 

A  deep  flush  came  into  Ballantyne's  pale  face. 
He  put  out  his  hand,  and  as  Mrs.  LeBaron  went 
toward  the  window,  his  still  uncertain  fingers  unfolded 
the  yellow  strip,  and  he  read  under  the  date,  "  Friday, 
September  nineteenth.  Sail  on  the  twentieth  by  the 
'  Baltic  '  with  Marion.  Barbara  Ryde." 

"  Did  you  beg  her  to  do  this  ? "  he  said,  with 
sudden  fire.  "  I  will  not  have  her  back  on  those 
terms.  She  shall  not  come  because  mere  pity  brings 
her." 

"Oh,  foolish  John;  true  to  your  sex,"  Mrs. 
LeBaron  said,  as  she  met  his  wrathful  eyes.  "  I  did 
not  beg.  I  believe  I  had  no  need  to  beg.  I  wrote 
but  a  page,  and  I  said  in  it  only  that  you  could  not 
sail  at  the  appointed  time,  because  you  had  nearly 
lost  your  life  saving  others." 

"  But  that  was  tacit  appeal,"  he  said.  "  I  wish  I 
might  have  gone  to  them,  though  —  it  is  possible  — 
it  can't  be  possible !  " 

He  stopped  short  a  moment,  and  his  eyes  searched 
her  face. 

"  I  had  written,"  he  said.  "  I  wrote  all  that  paper 
would  hold  of  what  I  meant  to  say.  Perhaps  it  is 
that  she  answers  in  this  way.  But  how  shall  one 
know  ?  Does  any  one  here  know  ?  " 

u  No  one  but  you  and  me." 

He  was  silent,  and  turned  away  his  head  as  if  to 


360  BALLANTYNE 

sleep,  and  Mrs.  LeBaron  retreated  with  a  smile  he 
did  not  see. 

"  Doubt  as  you  like,  poor  boy,"  she  said  to  herself. 
"  I  think  I  have  blundered  in  telling  you  too  soon, 
but  the  issues  no  man  need  question." 

For  the  days  that  followed  a  resolute  silence  lay 
between  them.  Ballantyne  gained  hourly,  but  a  great 
restlessness  was  upon  him,  and  he  watched  every 
token  of  cloud  or  wind  with  anxiety  illy  veiled.  But 
the  days  went  on  toward  the  equinoctial,  each  sunny 
and  warm  as  if  no  storm  were  near,  and  at  last  came 
one  in  which  he  read  that  the  "  Baltic  "  had  passed 
Fire  Island,  and  waited  in  the  same  silence  for  what 
further  was  to  come. 

Through  a  night  of  sleeplessness  and  tossing  he 
heard  the  wind  howl  and  the  heavy  rain  beat  against 
the  windows,  and  when  he  had  dressed,  weak  still, 
but  quite  himself,  and  pushed  away  the  breakfast  that 
would  not  be  eaten,  he  took  a  book  and  tried  to 
read. 

Through  the  falling  rain  came  presently  the  sound 
of  wheels.  A  carriage  had  stopped.  There  were 
voices,  and  a  delay  that  seemed  an  eternity.  Then 
the  door  opened,  and  he  turned  toward  it  a  face  ashy 
pale,  and  Marion  was  there.  For  a  moment  she 
stood  silent.  Then,  pale  as  he,  she  came  forward 
and  bent  toward  him,  and  her  eyes  were  full  of, 
something  at  which  pulses  leaped  and  every  nerve 
answered  her.  But  as  his  arms  stretched  and  would 
hold  her  they  dropped. 


BALLANTYNE  361 

"  I  will  not  have  it  for  pity,"  he  said.  "  If  that  is 
all,  you  must  go  back  to  your  own." 

"  But  how,  when  I  come  for  love  ?  "  she  said ;  but 
his  eyes  even  then  searched  hers  silently. 

"  I  will  never  go  back,"  she  said,  "  because  this  is 
my  own  place,  and  I  want  life  here.  O  John  !  don't 
you  see  that  I  believe  it  ?  " 

For  a  moment  his  eyes  were  on  her  with  a  question 
that  shook  him  as  he  looked.  Then  he  drew  her  to 
him,  and  as  his  lips  met  hers,  knew  at  last  that  what 
ever  doubt  or  perplexity  life  must  still  hold,  such 
solving  as  man  may  know  would  be  together. 


NEW   FICTION 

Sir  Christopher 

A  Romance  of  a  Maryland  Manor  in  1644.  By  MAUD  WIL 
DER  GOODWIN,  author  of  "The  Head  of  a  Hundred," 
"White  Aprons,"  etc.  Illustrated  by  Howard  Pyle  and  other 
artists.  I2mo.  Decorated  cloth.  $1.50. 

THE  events  of  the    new  historical  romance  by  the  author  of 
"  White  Aprons'1  occur  in  Maryland  and  Virginia.      Sev 
eral  of  the  favorite  characters  of   "The  Head    of  a  Hundred1' 
reappear  in  its  pages.      It  is   highly  dramatic,   full  of  incident,  and 
contains  some  charming  love  scenes. 

Like  Mrs.  Goodwin's  previous  stories,  however,  it  is  more  than  a 
mere  romance,  for  it  has  a  strong  historical  background,  and  it 
gives  a  faithful  and  vivid  picture  of  Colonial  days. 

The  Love-Letters  of  the  King 

Or,  The  Life  Romantic.  By  RICHARD  LE  GALLIENNE, 
author  of  "The  Book  Bills  of  Narcissus,"  etc.  i2mo.  Dec 
orated  cloth.  $1.50. 

THIS  delightful  story  is  told  with  the  author's  usual  literary 
skill  and  charm.  It  abounds  with  clever,  clear-cut  aphorisms 
and  witty  sayings,  and  Religion,  Nature,  Society,  and  Solitude  all 
come  in  for  a  share  of  comment.  The  book  has  many  wholesome 
human  touches,  though  its  greatest  charm  lies  in  the  author's  style 
and  original  point  of  view. 

Ballantyne 

A  Novel.  By  HELEN  CAMPBELL,  author  of  "Prisoners 
of  Poverty,"  etc.  i2mo.  Decorated  Cloth.  $1.50. 

ANEW  and  distinctively  American  story,  with  a  distinctively 
original  plot.  Its  heroine  is  an  American  girl  who  goes  to 
England  to  live  because  she  is  disappointed  with  her  own  country. 
Its  hero,  Ballantyne,  though  American  by  inheritance,  has  been 
brought  up  in  an  English  home  by  a  mother  whose  one  wish  is  that 
he  shall  never  visit  America.  But  to  Ballantyne  America  has  been 
an  ideal,  and  to  him  it  stands  for  everything  which  is  free  and  high. 
A  novel  and  original  part  of  the  story  is  the  vivid  description  of  the 
"Brotherhood"  in  New  Jersey  where  Ballantyne  visited,  much 
such  a  community  as  Laurence  Oliphant  once  lived  in.  There  are 
also  glimpses  of  Plymouth  and  Nantucket. 


NEW  FICTION 
Truth  Dexter 

A  Romance  of  North  and  South.  By  SIDNEY  McCALL. 
I2mo.  Decorated  cloth.  $1.50. 

THIS  is  a  new  American  society  story,  entertaining  from  begin 
ning  to  end,  and  full  of  brilliant  and  sparkling  dialogue.  Con 
trasted  with  a  clever  society  woman  is  Truth  Dexter,  an  unlessoned 
little  Southern  girl,  with  a  capacity  for  development  but  unused  to 
city  life.  There  are  a  number  of  exceptionally  well-drawn  char 
acters,  notably  Mrs.  Dexter,  Truth's  grandmother,  a  character 
study  of  great  delicacy.  The  old  plantation  life  is  made  very  real, 
and  the  novel  ends  in  a  sweet,  tender,  human  way. 

A  Daughter  of  New  France 

With  some  Account  of  the  Gallant  Sieur  Cadillac  and  his 
Colony  on  the  Detroit.  By  MARY  CATHERINE  CROW- 
LEY.  Illustrated  by  Clyde  O.  De  Land.  i2mo.  Decorated 
cloth.  $1.50. 

THIS    brilliant  story  opens  up  a  new  field  in  American  historical 
romance.      A  portion  of  the  novel  has  Quebec  in  the  time  of 
Count  Frontenac  for  its  scene,    but  the  greater  part  of  it  deals  with 
the  early  days  of  the  French  settlement  of  Detroit. 

"It  is  the  object  of  this  narrative,"  says  the  author,  "to  go 
back  to  the  treasure-houses  of  French-Canadian  history,  Quebec 
and  Montreal  ;  to  sketch  the  society  of  the  city  of  Champlain  at 
the  end  of  the  seventeenth  and  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth 
centuries  j  to  picture  the  brilliant  Gascon  chevalier  who  laid  the 
foundations  of  our  American  city  of  Detroit,  with  his  company  of 
sturdy  voyageurs,  coureurs  de  bois,  sons  of  proud  seigneurs,  and 
the  women  who  loved  them  and  shared  their  fortunes." 


The  Master-Knot  of  Human  Fate 

By  ELLIS   MEREDITH.     i6mo.     Decorated  cloth.    $1.25. 


scene  of  this  remarkable  story  is  Crystal  Park,  near 
A  Manitou,  Col.,  and  about  ten  miles  from  Colorado  Springs. 
It  is  a  novel  with  a  problem,  which  the  reader  may  or  may  not 
solve,  but  the  guessed  or  unguessed  riddle  of  the  story  will  quicken 
the  thoughts  of  those  who  read  the  record  of  the  man  and  woman 
—  its  sole  characters  —  who  live  and  move  through  its  pages. 


NEW  FICTION 
The  American  Husband  in  Paris 

By  ANNA  BOWMAN  DODD,  author  of  "  Three  Normandy 
Inns,"  "  Falaise,  the  Town  of  the  Conqueror,"  etc.  i2mo. 
Cloth.  $1.00. 

A   CLEVER  and  humorous  story  in  dialogue  j  the  subject  is  the 
first  visit  to  Paris  of  a  New  York  business  man. 

The  Head  of  a  Hundred  in  the 
Colony  of  Virginia,  1622 

By  MAUD  WILDER  GOODWIN,  author  of  "White 
Aprons,"  "Flint"  "  The  Colonial  Cavalier,"  etc.  Illustrated 
Edition.  With  a  colored  miniature  by  Jessie  Willcox  Smith, 
and  five  full  page  pictures.  i2mo.  $1.50.  Tenth  Impression. 

One  of  the  best  works  of  its  class.  —  The  Mail  and  Express. 
Well  deserves  its  popularity.  —  Detroit  Free  Press. 

She  has  indeed  added  a  valuable  page  to  the  literature  of  Virginia.  .  .  . 
The  story  goes  with  a  rush  from  start  to  finish.  —  San  Francisco  Bulletin. 

From  Kingdom  to  Colony 

By  MARY  DEVEREUX.  Illustrated  by  Henry  Sandham. 
i2mo.  Decorated  Cloth.  $1.50.  Twelfth  Thousand. 

We  had  not  proceeded  far  into  the  story  before  we  found  ourselves  deeply 
absorbed  in  it,  not  only  because  of  the  rapid  movement  of  the  plot,  but 
also  because  of  the  delicate  and  subtle  grace  of  style.  .  .  .  The  author's 
success  is  distinctly  marked.  — Atlanta  Constitution. 

The  work  of  the  minute-men,  of  the  scouts  and  the  Marblehead  fishermen, 
takes  on  an  entirely  new  and  thrilling  interest  when  shown  as  figuring  in  the 
destinies  of  such  characters.  —  Beacon,  Boston. 

For  the  Queen  in  South  Africa 

By  CARYL  DAVIS  RASKINS.     i6mo.    $1.00. 

Currita,  Countess  of  Albornoz 

A  Novel  of  Madrid  Society.  By  LUIS  COLOMA.  Trans 
lated  from  the  Spanish  by  Estelle  Huyck  Attwell.  i2mo.  $1.50. 
2d  Edition. 

Its  pages  teem  with  evidences  of  a  close  study  of  men  and  women.  The 
plot  is  ingenious  and  the  complications  are  numerous  and  absorbing.  .  .  . 
An  uncommonly  interesting  book.  —  Neiv  York  Times. 


Empress  Octavia 


A  Romance  of  the  Court  of  Nero.     By  WILHELM   WAL- 
LOTH.       Translated    by    Mary    J.    Safford.      i2mo.       $1.50. 

3d  Edition. 


NEW  FICTION 
The  Knights  of  the  Cross 

By  HENRYK  SIENKIEWICZ,  Author  of  "Quo  Vadis." 
Authorized  and  unabridged  translation  by  Jeremiah  Curtin. 
Two  Vols.  Crown  8vo.  Cloth.  Price  $2.00.  Eighth  Edition. 

A  great,  a  wonderful  story  —  one  that  marks  the  author  as  a  historical 
novelist  of  the  first  rank.  — Brooklyn  Eagle. 

The  stamp  of  verity  and  the  glow  of  original  genius  are  on  every  page.  — 
Ne<w  York  Times. 

In  "The  Knights  of  the  Cross,"  Sienkiewicz  is  at  his  best.  It  is  full  of 
life  and  action,  its  characters  are  of  flesh  and  blood,  its  interest  never  flags,  and 
the  reader,  hurried  through  scenes  daringly  conceived  and  brilliantly  executed, 
follows  with  breathless  interest  the  fortunes  of  the  hero.  —  Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

A  Dream  of  a  Throne 

The  Story  of  a  Mexican  Revolt.  By  CHARLES  F. 
EMBREE.  Illustrated  by  Henry  Sandham.  i2mo.  $1.50. 
Fifth  Edition. 

Highly  original  and  dramatic.  .  .  .  The  free  mountain  air  seems  to  blow 
through  its  pages.  —  Philadelphia  Press. 

Outside  of  history,  the  most  considerable  contribution  to  American  literature 
inspired  by  Mexican  themes.  —  Mexican  Herald. 

Sigurd  Eckdal's  Bride 

By  RICHARD  VOSS.  Translated  by  Mary  J.  Safford. 
Illustrated  by  F.  E.  Schoonover.  i2mo.  $1.50. 

An  unforgettable  novel.  —  Boston  Transcript. 

Sounds  the  dominant  note  of  contemporary  Scandinavian  literature.  —  Mail 
and  Express,  N.  Y. 

The  Arctic  expedition,  by  means  of  a  balloon,  furnishes  a  powerful  feature  of 
the  plot,  but  from  first  to  last  the  story  is  wonderful  in  strength  and  in  literary 
grace.  —  Providence  Telegram. 

The  Parsonage  Porch 

Seven  Stories  from  the  Note  Book  of  a  Clergyman.  By 
BRADLEY  OILMAN.  i6mo.  $1.00.  Second  Edition. 

He  presents  many  of  the  common  characters  and  experiences  of  life  with  a 
masterful  hand,  interesting,  delighting,  and  ennobling  the  reader.  It  is  a  good 
book  for  everybody  and  any  place.  —  Zion  s  Herald. 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  CO.,  Publishers, 
254  WASHINGTON  STREET,  BOSTON. 


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